The intern
by AshtonCat
Summary: Follows the story of FBI intern Cathy through the second, third and fourth season. Not enough Mahone/OC stories out there.
1. Chapter 1

FBI agents don't make good teachers. Mahone's own words when he found out the Federal Bureau of Investigation had decided to accept one intern from the special police academy. They had been under pressure for years about their policy of not accepting any students into their teams in fear of sensitive information getting out.

So Cathy spend the first three hours of her first day signing paperwork that would keep her mouth shut for the next five decades. She was pretty sure her grandchildren would hear about this internship. But atleast she got in. A position to envy for someone of her age. Not many 24 year olds got the chance to work and learn with the nation's top team. Everybody had been very kind to her so far, and she had been appointed as agent Lang's personal assistant. A chore the female agent had volunteered for herself, seeing at is was her who persuaded the bureau to finally accept pupils. Agent Mahone didn't want anything to do with it, and she was advised to keep out of his way.

What she didn't know was that he had been told to stay away from the new intern as well. Nobody was waiting to explain Mahone's erratic behaviour to the police academy should it come to some sort of situation between him and the young student. He was basically told to take it easy on the new girl, and he didn't chose to spend energy in trying to explain to Lang he didn't intend on hurting the feelings of her new kitten. A lovely little kitten, for sure. But still a kitten. And she would be on Starbucks duty for the rest of her internship if it was up to him. But, as Wheeler had made very clear before, she was put under Lang's charge. And the lioness took to her cub immediately.

Next to Lang's, Cathy had been appointed her own rickety desk. An old one from the basement, covered in dust and imprints of coffee cups. She even got her own, outdated, phone. And a very old desk lamp with a drawstring switch. But she was happy to have it, even more so with the time Lang put in giving her little assignments. Running plates or locating gravesites of family members of the escapees. Small stuff she could set her teeth in and work on for a few days, getting familiar with the tricks of the trade.

From where she sat, she had a perfect view on agent Mahone's office. Peering right through the two leaves of some plant someone had put in there, she could see his pale face as he worked behind his desk. She watched as his glasses slowly made their way to the tip of his nose when his face was covered in sweat. Sometimes he was too late with shoving them back in place, and they would fall on whatever he was reading or texting, startling himself in the process.

Cathy shared the same hours as Lang, and so she made long days. For agent Lang had the tendency to wait for agent Mahone to leave the office before going home herself. The girl refrained from asking why, but it probably had something to do with Mahone's lack of sense of time. He never seemed to enjoy leaving his desk to go home and rest. So the man always seemed to be dog tired from lack of sleep.

She had watched as Lang would get up around 11:00 in the evening to poke her head around Mahone's office door. "Alex, it's time to break this up and go home."

"You go, Lang.. I'll stay a little longer." She heard him say without looking up. But agent Lang didn't budge and simply folded her arms across her chest. "It's 11:00 a clock, Alex. You need to rest."

"I need to find these guys, that's what I need. I'm busy! You want to go home, go! Take the girl with you. I don't want to get into any trouble for not keeping my team on school hours!" He barked, shoving a pen holder off his desk forcefully, causing the whole thing to slam against the wall, pens flying everywhere.

Cathy was happy to see her intern coach didn't look impressed by Mahone's outburst. Eventhough the admirable woman was standing with her back to her charge, her defiant posture hadn't changed.

"Go home, Alex. Get some sleep." She said and closed the door of his office. Her expression a mixture of weariness and worry. "Cathy, you can go. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

The girl didn't hear her, for her gaze was fixed on the agent behind the glass. Reaching into his coat pocket, he took out a pen and unscrewed it. A small blue pill fell into the palm of his shaking hand and he swallowed the thing quickly, nervously, like he was afraid to get caught. He looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown. But after a few deep inhales, his eyes closed and his still shaking hand to his forehead, he seemed to be slowly regaining his composure. Turning a little green from the obvious stress he was putting his body through, he reached for a glass of water and took a careful sip.

"Cathy!" she snapped out of her trance and looked up at Lang's agitated expression as she held out the girl's coat. "let's go." Agent Mahone didn't go home that night. For when she returned the next morning, he was wearing the exact same shirt, sweaty as it was. His desk decorated in a colourful collection of hysterical empty coffee cups. His hair was a mess, and he had managed to make an even bigger mess of the many papers and files before him.

This went on for weeks. And she watched the friction between him and agent Wheeler, sometimes ending in a round of yelling and empty threats shooting both ways. She had watched the come and go of Richard Sullins. A man she had had many interviews with before she was allowed into the team. To her, he had always been most amiable. And when he paid his surprise visit to the bureau, he winked at her kindly before heading for agent Mahone's office. It seemed that Sullins and Mahone knew eachother well enough to shamelessly admit to their mutual hate for one another. She had no idea what the conversation had been about, but from the almost defeated look on Mahone's face, it wasn't a thank you note.

When Sullins left, he placed his card on Cathy's desk with a charming smile. "You'll call me when he starts throwing trashcans around again, won't you dear?" He said.

"Trashcans, sir?" she asked, looking up at him in surprise.

"Yes.." He confirmed with another smile. "Call me" He said again and left the workfloor without a word of goodbye to anyone else. She looked at the card with a confused expression, one that Lang picked up immediately. The agent let out a tired sigh.

"Put that away before agent Mahone sees that, or this place will definitely see some flying trashcans." She advised. Cathy put the card in her wallet quickly, not wanting to upset the already troubled agent.

There were days at the office without Mahone. And everybody tuned in to find him. But when the man choose to disappear, nobody could track him. These were the days agent Wheeler picked up the task to lead the rest of the team, never skipping a chance to talk bad about the missing agent. Lang always made sure to lock Mahone's office and hide the key in a drawer of her desk when it was obvious he wouldn't come in that day. Cathy admired her intern coach for these little acts of kindness and loyalty. And felt sorry for her as well, when it turned out Wheeler had contacted Sullins about the missing key and the latter showed up with a spare. Now everyone could nose through Mahone's desk no problem. They even stole a few of his coffee cups.

Three months into her internship at the federal bureau of investigation, she had gotten pretty used to everyone on the team. She had made friends with another young girl, named Susan, one of the phone operators. She was only two years her senior, and it was nice to have someone around she could talk to. Unlike Susan, she wasn't a big fan of gossip. But atleast now she knew Wheeler got recently dumped by his girlfriend. Serves him right for the attitude he gave to Mahone, she thought. It was almost Christmas, and after a long discussion with everyone involved, a small Christmas tree had been allowed in. Of course decorating it was up to the intern. Cause no matter how nice everyone seemed, they still enjoyed giving her pesky little chores.

Agent Mahone couldn't care any less about Christmas trees or who the sucker was that had to decorate it. He had locked himself in his office and had been bend over stacks of files for hours. He answered his phone, chucked down his double expressos and took his pills. It didn't feel like it was almost Christmas at all, with or without tree, the weather outside was grey and rainy. No snow had fallen yet, though it had been cold enough for it for weeks.

When Mahone emerged from his office after a short phone call, both Lang and Cathy looked up. He looked like Lazarus risen from the grave. His hair a mess, his tie loose, and his eyes red and swollen. She had seen him in this condition before. It happened occasionally. But he always made sure it wasn't witnessed by too many people.

"I got a call.. They might have been sighted about an hour ago. I'm going there right now." He announced with a tired and shaky voice.

"When is the last time you slept?" Lang snapped. If he was any less tired, he would have rolled his eyes at her. But he decided to just sigh and ignore the female agent's fussing. "Did you even go home last night?" she continued.

"I don't have time for this, Lang.." He told her, almost begging her to just drop it and help him do his job. There was a short silence between the two agents. Pursing her lips in annoyance, Lang decided to save him the embarrassment of a confession in front of an intern and go about his way.

"Well, where is it?" She asked. Mahone sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly as if he was trying to wake himself up.

"Somewhere down town.. I know where it is. I gotta go." Taking one step forward, he almost lost his balance as his leg threatened to give out on him. Cursing under his breath, he leaned on one of the empty desks. Most people had gone home by now, it was long past dinnertime. There was no one there to witness this embarrassing situation but his most trusted agent and her young assistant. Lang got up from her chair and walked over to him. She placed an unsure hand on his shoulder. "Let someone take you there." She suggested gently. The tone in her voice more worried than agitated. He shook his head, rubbing his leg nervously. "Alex, you're no condition to drive right now. The roads may be slippery."

"I'll be fine" He argued weakly.

"I would drive you there myself if I could, Alex. But I'm expecting an important phone call. I cannot get away from that phone right now. Why don't you let Cathy drive you there?"

"What?! No.. are you crazy?! I'm not taking an..an intern with me. Come on, Lang. Cut me loose, will you? I'll be just fine. I'll get some coffee down the road." Mahone said, straightening himself up to show everyone he was just fine. Fact was, the room was dancing in front of his eyes. But he had to go there. It was important. There were witnesses to talk to. His stomach cramped up because of the lack of food and rest, and he clutched it silently. The pills were not supposed to be taken on an empty stomach, and along with all the coffee he had already consumed, he dreaded to find out what kind of chemical brew he had created inside himself right now. But he had the slight idea he was going to see it pretty soon.

"Then tell her to stay in the damn car" Lang said sternly. "I will not have you ram your car into a lamppost because I let you go in this condition." The tired agent seemed ready to just burst out in tears right there, but he collected himself and nodded in defeat.

"Alright.. But she's not taking my car.." He mumbled, trying to fix his tie with shaky fingers. Lang rolled her eyes and looked up at her shy charge, who had been following the conversation with widened eyes. "You got a car, Cathy?"

She nodded frantically and rummaged through her pockets to show the agent her car keys. "I gladly take you there, sir. It's no problem. " She said. Mahone didn't look up to meet her eyes, and just nodded a little.

"Put your coat on.. it's cold outside." He told her softly. His gentler side showing now he was about to put up a young girl with the task of driving his exhausted self around. He was embarrassed about the whole situation, and she could probably tell he was, by the way she looked at him.

Lang placed a comforting hand on her arm and smiled at her kindly, thanking her in silence for taking care of her supervisor. She smiled back in reassurance.

"I'll let you know when we're there." Cathy said, holding up her cell phone. Lang nodded and turned to Mahone to help him stand. He pulled away from her gently, and held up his hand to indicate he was fine on his own. He didn't need any assistance walking to the parking lot, thank you very much.

A little worried, the female agent watched her young intern and her trusted colleague leave. The girl putting on her long winter coat as they walked, with Mahone in slow pursuit. They received some looks on their way to the front entrance, but she tried to ignore them as much as possible. Someone passing them by in a hallway asked Mahone where he was going, but the latter just shook his head at the man. He wasn't in the mood to answer any questions right now.

The cold wind hit them the moment they stepped outside, and she clutched the front of her coat to keep her neck from being exposed to the chill air. Agent Mahone had no coat, and he must have been freezing, but if he was cold he didn't show it and simply followed her to her car. To her surprise he climbed into the back seat, and plopped himself down unceremoniously, happy to be sitting down again.

She refrained from asking why he refused to sit next to her, and threw her bag on the passenger's seat. Her old car refused to start the first couple of times, and in the view of her mirror, she watched Mahone rub his eyes in agitation. Mumbling something about Lang going to get it.

"Come on, you.. don't let me down now." She mumbled at the ancient relic she drove around in.

"Maybe it's time to invest into something more functional, miss." Came the sharp remark from the backseat. She closed her eyes to calm herself and let out a deep sigh. Turning the key again, the car protested, but then the sound of the old engine roared through the almost deserted windy streets.

"Alright, we're off." She said excitingly.

He didn't reply, and she, too nervous to start the conversation, remained silent as well. He didn't seem to be in the mood to talk, and she watched him peer out of the foggy windows with a tired expression. The streets were dark, the wet road reflecting the many lights of the city. Causing her to squint her eyes sometimes to see where she was going exactly. She turned on the heat the moment the engine had warmed up sufficiently.

As the warmth started to spread through the car, she watched him fight against his exhaustion. His eyes closed and his head lolling, until a bump in the road caused him to sit up again and look around in slight confusion.

He had scribbled the address on a post it note that she had stuck to her dashboard. It wasn't far, but because of the weather, she couldn't drive very fast. It had started to rain again and she was forced to turn on the windshield wipers. Rounding another corner, she hit the brakes because of people running across the road holding their coats over their heads.

"Fuck.." she hissed. "This weather makes people suicidal"

No reply came from the back seat and she sighed. The silence was deafening, the only sound came from the wipers, her turn signal and the rain clattering on the roof. Suddenly, she heard something slide across the smooth leather seat, followed by a dull thud. Mahone had disappeared from her rear view mirror, and she quickly looked over her shoulder to see he had slumped to his side and was now laying across the entire back seat of her car.

"Sir?"

He didn't answer. Not knowing what was wrong with him, she pulled over. The tires hitting the sidewalk with a squeaky sound. She turned to get a better look at him. He didn't look like there was something serious going on. He looked perfectly fine now, actually. Better than in waking state, if she had to be honest with herself. His eyes were closed, and his breathing calm and evened out. He had simply lost the battle with his exhaustion and had fallen asleep. She was more than willing to let him get his much needed rest, but he would never forgive her if she let him miss his appointment.

"Sir?"

No reply. She sighed and reached out to give his leg a gentle shake. He growled softly, like a dog not wanting to get up, and pulled his legs onto the seat, away from her annoying hand. He was a goner, and it was going to make him mad as hell later, but it was so much better for him right now.

"Probably the smartest decision of the evening anyway.." she mumbled to herself, turning in her seat again. She had to admit, she had seen enough of his self-destructive ways anyhow. And the fact his body had lost control in the back of her good-for-nothing car, gave her a sense of odd pride. Right there, she decided she would let him sleep. She admired him for his persistency and great intelligence, it was a shame to see him exhaust himself up to the point where he just collapsed.

"Are we there yet?" His voice came as a surprise to her, and she looked over her shoulder. His eyes were still closed. But now that the car was no longer moving, something in his brain was obviously telling him to wake up.

"No sir.. Traffic lights.." she told him. Oh, they would kill her if they found out about this. They would kick her out and make sure she wouldn't even be able to get a desk job at the local police office. She was misleading an FBI agent this way. For his own good, but still. But his tired brain accepted her explanation, and she watched him fall asleep again. He curled up more tightly, his breath visible in the now cold car.

She clicked her tongue and unbuckled her seat belt. There was a blanket in the trunk of her car, in case of emergencies. Reaching over the sleeping agent in a daring acrobatic move, she grabbed the patterned quilt and tucked it around the shivering man. He wouldn't remain asleep aslong as this car was standing still, it was its gentle jostling that told him they were on their way, and he could take a few moments of repose. As long as it was moving, he would get his rest. Ready for her new task, she buckled her seatbelt and started her car, turning on the comfortable heat once more.

"Let's go for a drive, shall we.." she mumbled to herself, and steered her car off the sidewalk. With no real destination in mind, she decided to first take all the scenic routes through the city. As long as agent Mahone would get a few hours of sleep, she was prepared to drive around. Lang was still expecting confirmation of their arrival at the scene though, and Cathy wasn't sure it would be wise to lie to the female agent. Then again, telling Lang she was driving her sleeping supervisor around in the back of her car didn't seem like a great option either. She took out her phone and, sighing deeply to calm herself, made up her little white lie.

" _arrived at the scene. Agent Mahone is talking to witness right now"_

She just hoped the woman would buy her story. It didn't take her very long to send a reply.

" _Did he behave himself?"_ Came agent Lang's question. Cathy chuckled. Yea, the man was behaving himself perfectly fine. He was every parents' dream during a ride to a holiday destination, actually. Not talking and sleeping peacefully.

" _No complaints. I'll let you know when we're on our way back."_

" _Driving Miss Daisy"_ Was the last reply from Lang, causing her to laugh again before putting her phone away. Now all she needed to do was make up some excuse to not bring the agent back to the bureau. She could tell Lang she brought him home, but she had no idea where he lived. And that question would really make for some seriously awkward situations. For now though, all she was going to do was drive for as long as he needed.

She drove through every neighbourhood she knew, visiting places she hadn't been to for years. Her old home, where her family moved to from New York. Her elementary school and high school. The park she used to walk her dog at. She kept the car comfortably warm. The man on the back seat slept in utter silence. Nothing betrayed his presence but the scent of his unwashed shirt, and an occasional restless moan. Getting tired herself after driving nonstop for three hours, she pulled into the drive through of McDonald's to get a cup of coffee. Taking a careful sip of the hot beverage while pulling out of the parking lot, her phone started ringing. She cursed under her breath when Lang's name showed up in the glowing screen. She had to pick up. Ignoring it would only cause her more trouble.

"Hello?"

"Cathy? Where are you going? What is agent Mahone doing?"

"Ehm.." she peered over her shoulder at the sleeping man, curled up like a child with the blanket covering most of his pale face. "He's.. still inside talking to someone." There was a short silence on the other end of the line.

"We both know that isn't true, Cathy. Agent Mahone never showed up at the site, and the GPS in his phone has been showing him going through basically entire Chicago. Where is he?" She swallowed thickly. Not really knowing how she was going to talk herself out of this.

"I don't know where he is. He got out of my car, left.. and.. I haven't seen him since. He told me not to tell you, agent Lang."

She wasn't sure the woman bought her story, but with a simple "Alright" she hung up. Apparently, her own whereabouts weren't interesting right now. Moments later, Mahone's phone started to ring from the inside of his coat pocket. He stirred, frowning in his sleep at the annoying loud sound. For a moment she thought he would wake up and answer, but then the ringing stopped and he relaxed again. She exhaled after holding her breath for the duration of the moment and tried to calm herself. She was putting her entire future career on the line by letting this man get some sleep. But she was in the middle of it now, there was no going back. So she pulled out of the parking lot and resumed her way.

It was around two in the morning when the rain turned into snowflakes and the world outside had gotten deadly quiet. Mahone's phone had rang a few more times, but eventually, Lang stopped trying to reach him. Probably thinking the man needed to disappear again like he did every now and then. Cathy knew she had to stop, she was getting dizzy and driving on would bring them both in danger. So she pulled into her own drive way in her deserted suburban neighbourhood, and there she leaned back her head, giving her eyes a few moments of rest. She kept the engine running, so the car wouldn't cool down too much.

Her bed was only a few feet away now, but she couldn't leave Mahone behind in her car. She had a guestroom he was more than welcome to use, but he would never agree to it. Besides, once he would wake up, the war would begin. She only hoped he would remember it was all done out of an act of kindness from someone he barely knew. So she waited until the agent was done resting.

She had fallen asleep soon after, and when she woke up again, the digital clock on her dashboard read 4:34 in the morning. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and smoothing her hair back, she peered over her shoulder. Mahone had somehow managed to roll onto his other side, his back to her, but further than that he was still vast asleep. She sighed. It made sense though. The man hadn't slept in days, and he was making up for it right now.

She had almost fallen asleep again when she heard him stir in the back of the car. He appeared in her rear view mirror as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, looking perfectly disorientated. Looking around, he frowned, having no idea where he was. He looked at his watch, squinting at the small numbers. They locked eyes in the mirror.

"Where are we? What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the depths of sleep. She sighed, here we go. The end of her career.

"We're in my drive way,sir." She started, and watched him climb into the passenger's seat stiffly. He sat down with a heavy thud and made a face when his sore body protested against the movements. It took him a moment to process the information. He smoothed down his unruly hair and rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of his drowsiness.

"And why are we in your drive way exactly?" He asked, taking out his phone to see if he had missed any calls. "It's 5 in the morning.." He mumbled, confused, and looked up at her. His sleepy gaze turned into a sharp glare within seconds, and he tilted his head at her in question. "Why the hell am I in your drive way at 5 in the damn morning?!"

She closed her eyes momentarily at his the backbiting tone in his voice, but she hadn't expected anything less. "Because you fell asleep, sir. And I didn't have the heart to wake you." She explained. He just stared at her with an expression of anger and disbelief.

"Are you telling me we've been here in your drive way since we left the bureau?! Because I fell asleep?!" He spat. "Oh that's just perfect!"

"You needed to rest.." she started.

"No! No.. you have no idea of what I need! Don't you dare.. telling me what I need..Cause I swear to God.." He opened his phone to dial Lang's number, turning his back to the young girl in pure anger. The female agent didn't answer, and he cursed under his breath, snapping his phone shut furiously. He tried to open the door, but the lock was on. "Let me out of this damn car!" He yelled.

Unlocking it, she watched him get out, only to pace around her drive way with an almost murderous rage. He dialled another few numbers, but everybody was asleep and he received no answer. She decided to grab her coat and get out of the car too, but the moment she did, he came up to her and forced her back against the parked vehicle. His cold blue eyes were spitting fire, and for a second she thought he would physically attack her.

"You have some explaining to do, young lady. Cause I swear to God, if I missed out on any important clues from that witness you were supposed to take me to.. if anything got delayed because some numskulled run of the mill cop had to write down a statement.. I will personally make sure you'll be working at the local McDonald's for the rest to your life!" He roared.

"This is my explanation, sir." She fired back. "I did it because you weren't well and you needed sleep."

He rubbed his eyes impatiently, mumbling something underneath his breath as he tried to collect himself and not round house kick this girl across her own drive way. "Have we just.." he started, exasperated. Sounding almost desperate. "Have we just spend the entire night just standing there on your drive way with the engine running?!"

"No, I drove around the city until about 2. I didn't want you to wake up, sir. And stopping the car meant turning off the heat."

He stared at her with a blank expression, having no idea what to say to this stupid girl, other than that she was more stupid than he ever anticipated her to be. He would have never guessed the FBI headquarters would assign an oxymoronic student to his team. He panted, out of breath from his violent outburst, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve roughly. Looking around like he expected to find a better explanation for the current situation, his eyes fell upon the blanket on the back seat of the car. Her kindness almost humbling, he sighed.

"Alright.." he mumbled, backing away from her. He held up his hands, indicating defeat and almost an apology for his behaviour. He couldn't rip apart a 24 year old girl that had meant well. There was no way he could justify that to himself. Besides, her foolish act of compassion was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. He sighed deeply, his hands in his sides as he peered up at the clear sky, breathing in the crisp winter air. His mind forever clouded over from the drugs that kept him going.

"Let's go find ourselves a decent cup of coffee.." He suggested.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"Well I.." she started, not sure if this was the right thing to offer. "I got coffee inside.." she tried with a small voice. "I can make you some, sir."

He would have rather seen it differently. But most places were closed now anyway, and he assumed she had driven around enough for tonight. It made no sense to tell her no and have her drive him to the local Wendy's to chuck down a cup of the disgusting ratbag beverage they called coffee over there. So after running his hand through his messy hair in annoyed contemplation, he nodded. She beamed at his decision and rummaged through her purse to get her keys.

A very happy old dog came to greet them at the front door, wagging its tail excitingly. "That's Rufus." She said, placing her car keys on a table by the door. "He can't tell the difference between the mailman and a burglar, but he makes me feel safe anyhow." The cheerful dog continued sniffing the agent's clothes curiously, and Mahone stood still to undergo the investigation.

"Sorry about that." Cathy said, chuckling softly as she reached out to grab the dog by his collar and drag him away. "He's just saying hello." She explained.

The tired man just gave her a faint half smile, and followed her through the hallway to her small kitchen. Like he was inspecting a crime scene, he looked around, letting his eyes roam through the small but comfortable home. Taking in every detail and storing them in his ever working mind.

Thankfully, she didn't try to strike a conversation with him. She simply worked on making him that coffee in a comfortable silence. After pacing through her kitchen for a while, and catching her sneaking glances at him from over her shoulder to see what he was doing to occupy himself, he decided to sit down at the small kitchen table and wait for his drink like normal people did.

From the looks of it, the home had come furnished, and she didn't have the money to redecorate it. The kitchen had clearly seen better days, and her outdated appliances could use replacement. She must have moved in when she got the position at his field office. Did interns get paid? He had no idea. He would have to ask Lang, and find a way to cope with the sassy raised eyebrow the woman would give him after inquiring about her kitten's payroll. The answer wouldn't come easy.

Feeling his hands starting to shake, he tried to steady himself. Not now. He couldn't pop his pills in the home of a 24 year old girl. That wasn't right. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair. His exhaustion should have been less after eight hours of sleep, but nothing could have been further from the truth. It had been ages since he had woken up feeling rested. Those days were long gone. Now, he could only wake up feeling possibly more tired than before, nauseas, or dizzy. He took a quick look over his shoulder, she was still occupied with her antique coffee machine. The last thing he wanted to happen, was him snapping at her for some meaningless thing because of his withdrawal symptoms. So he reached into his coat pocket, took out his pen, unscrewed the top and quickly swallowed the little blue pill.

His dry throat made it impossible for him to force the thing down, and he coughed into his sleeve, trying to be as quiet about it as possible. His eyes started to water as he desperately tried to swallow again and again. A glass of water appeared in front of him, and he reached out immediately, taking a big gulp. He felt the obstruction leave his throat, and he leaned back in his chair panting. Only now he was calming down, he felt the gentle patting of her hand on his back, settling his lungs.

He realized she had seen him take the pill, and whatever her reaction should have been, she had chosen to give him a glass of water instead.

"You alright, sir?" Came her soft voiced question. He nodded, not looking up at her. He couldn't, he was embarrassed, now wondering how much she knew about his habits. If she was to tell Lang, he would never have another peaceful moment at the office again. That woman would stick duct tape to his mouth to keep him from taking those pills if she had to. He listened to the young girl rummaging through various cupboards before placing a jar of cookies in front of him. He stared at it in confusion.

"I don't think you're supposed to take those on an empty stomach, sir."

He hesitated for a moment, feeling more embarrassed than ever, but the prospect of his stomach protesting against the heavy medication in such a way that it would leave him hanging over her toilet bowl, seemed to guide his hand eventually. Munching on his cookie like a guilty child, he watched her place two steaming cups of coffee on the table before sitting down herself. She gave him the kindest of smiles, where he could only regard her impassively, waiting for his withdrawal symptoms to subside.

"You've seen me do this before, haven't you?" He started, causing her to look at him from over the rim of her cup while she took careful sips. "You're going to get in trouble with that fly on the wall attitude." He continued.

Chuckling, she set her cup down. "Flies can't reveal secrets.." she told him, trying to ignore his piercing glare.

"Oh.." he said, unconvinced. "So you won't be calling Sullins first thing tomorrow, hm? Despite him giving you his card and telling you to report any.. misbehaviour on my part?"

"I would never do such a thing, sir." He had offended her, he could hear it in her shaky voice. "Besides.." she continued, trying to calm herself. "Mister Sullins asked me to call him if you'd start throwing trashcans around, sir. And I haven't seen you do that yet."

He let out a breathy chuckle, but it was bitter and without humor. It sounded much like something Sullins would say. "Yet.." He told her, giving her a weak smile. She returned the gesture, and shoved the cookie jar towards him.

"So where are you from?" He asked, taking another biscuit. Like most men living alone, he'd never buy wholegrain cookies for himself. He used to hate it when Pam brought these dry bland fuckers home. But it did help settle his stomach, and he was grateful for her consideration.

"Originally from New York. But I've been living in Chicago since I was three years old. I tried to find an intern place at the headquarters but.. I don't know, I was assigned at your field office instead. I was lucky enough to get agent Lang to coach me." She explained. "She saved my life.. basically."

"Exactly, so don't give her a reason to regret making the decision to take you under her wing. If you keep overstepping the boundaries, she will be no longer able to defend you." He told her sternly. She was quiet, looking much younger than she actually was now that she was being scolded like a school girl.

"I just wanted to help you, sir." She said, staring into her coffee.

"You refused to follow direct orders from an FBI agent, that is anything but helpful to me." He stopped himself right there, not wishing to scratch her eyes out for her act of compassion. There weren't many people that would have done the same for him. And she wouldn't neither, had she known him a little better. She was young, and that kept him from going full throttle on her. "All I'm saying is.." He continued in a much softer tone. "If you really want to make it into the FBI.. you might want to reconsider on who's side you're on. Mine or Sullins.." He chuckled joylessly. "All I can tell you is that Sullins will be able to get you a lot further than I can." She was quiet, feeling insulted and not knowing what to say. She would never snitch on agent Mahone, no matter the mountains of gold Sullins would offer her for information.

"Agent Wheeler told me the same thing a few days ago." She started. "He said if I really wanted a job there, he could take care of it."

Mahone just rolled his eyes, taking an angry sip from his cup. "I'm sure he can." He mumbled dryly. "And it's up to you whether you want to do it the easy way or actually work for it. And that takes character."

"He's a dick.." she said with such bluntness, it made him chuckle.

"Yea, but he knows what he's worth to people like you." The agent shrugged. "Or people like Sullins." He looked at his watch, 5:43, it would take another three hours before the office would open. Contrary to popular belief, FBI agents did have a life outside the FBI, and they all went home to their families around 6 in the evening, coming back the next day around 8:30. And those were the early risers too. Like himself. He looked up to find the girl yawning into her sleeve.

"Go get some sleep, Cathy. I don't think I'm going to spontaneously combust while sitting at your kitchen table. I think it's safe to say I'll be fine." He gave her a stern look, but she didn't look convinced.

"You're just gonna sit here, sir?" she said, unsure. He agreed it sounded pretty ridiculous, but what was the alternative? He didn't feel much for sitting in a hard chair for three hours, but perhaps he could find himself a couch and a TV that worked better than her car or coffee machine, and he would be fine.

"I have a guest room.." she offered carefully. "You're welcome to use it, sir."

His body immediately responded to the prospect of laying down in a warm bed, and he felt his exhaustion wash over him in full force. He sighed heavily, looking down at the table top. Her offer simply too tempting to refuse out of pure stubbornness. What was he trying to prove to this child anyway? That he was a big boy and he could stay up all night? well, he couldn't. He slept for eight hours in the back of her car, while she drove around the city, in fear of waking him up. Sleeping in a guest room couldn't make this situation any more embarrassing than it already was. So he nodded tiredly. "Yea, alright.. Point me in the right direction."

Her beaming smile was hard to miss as she got up from the table and lead him down the hallway to a small but cosy room. Entering, she turned on the lights for him and drew the curtains. He looked around the room from the doorway, giving her a moment to remove a few stacks of laundry from the comfortable looking queen sized bed.

"It's not much.." she admitted, holding a few folded shirts close to her chest shyly. "But I suppose it'll do for a few hours. I changed the sheets this morning if you're wondering, sir."

"It's fine.." He assured her, not wanting to seem rude. "Thank you."

With another warm smile, she left and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in the small bedroom. It would certainly do just fine for a few hours. He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his underwear, quickly crawling underneath the covers. Shivering violently, he realized his phone was still in his coat pocket. And his coat was on the floor. Fuck it. He was not getting out of bed again, the room was too damn cold, and this bed too damn comfortable. He would deal with Lang in the morning.

Cathy, in turn, lay awake in her own bed wondering if the agent was alright in that room. Perhaps she should have given him a spare blanket. The nights were cold. Or maybe she should have told him where the bathroom was, that might have been a good idea as well. She listened to her dog stalking the hallway restlessly, wary because of the new occupant in the house. The heavy thuds of his paws on the carpet, as he walked from her bedroom door to the guestroom and back, lulled her to sleep eventually.

It was 8:45 when her phone started ringing. Cursing, she leaned out of the bed to fish the noisy telephone out of her jeans' back pocket. Agent Lang's name showed up in the glowing screen. "Goodmorning, ma'm"

"What is agent Mahone doing at your house, Cathy?" she didn't sound like she considered it a goodmorning at all. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Cathy fell back onto the bed. It was still dark outside, but she knew they had slept in nonetheless.

"Eh..Sleeping?" She tried carefully.

"You haven't been completely honest with me last night, miss Wright. And I want you to know I hold that against you." The agent continued.

"I do apologize, ma'm.." Cathy started with a small voice, feeling the woman's anger grow. "The evening developed kind of differently than anticipated." She only realized how odd that statement was after saying it. "Shit, I don't mean to imply.."

"Cathy, what on earth happened last night? If he behaved inappropriately.." Too late. Her supervisor had drawn her embarrassing conclusion. Feeling much like just disappearing into a hole in the ground and not come out for the next ten years, she grabbed a pillow and placed it on her face, groaning miserably.

"Cathy? Are you still with me?"

"Yes, ma'm" came the muffled reply.

"Will you answer the question please?!" Her intern coach sounded more irritated than ever. "Did anything happen between the two of you I should be aware of?" apparently, she really expected a serious answer to that ridiculous question.

"No.. Ma'm" Cathy spoke softly after calming herself a little. "He was exhausted, so I offered him my guestroom." She explained. What, was I supposed to kick him out? Have him crash on my driveway instead. "I want to talk to him." Lang said bluntly.

She shot up in bed, feeling her stomach turn in panic at the request "But he's still asleep!" Cathy tried, exasperated. "I can't just burst in there!" Make his experience with the intern even more disastrous by barging into his bedroom and throwing a phone at his face.

"Then wake him! You are in enough trouble as it is, miss Wright! Do not make the mistake of refusing another order!" The female agent wasn't letting this go. Annoyed at the unmovable object that was agent Lang, Cathy climbed out of bed. Why didn't she have a bathrobe like normal people? She was never going to succeed in putting on her jeans with one hand. So her dad's shirt would have to do for now. She cursed under her breath as she tripped over the sleepy dog in front of her bedroom door.

"Language, Cathy.." Came the scolding remark from the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath, she gently knocked on Mahone's bedroom door. But no answer came. She sighed, this morning was probably the start of the shittiest day of her life.

"He's not waking up." Cathy told her coach. "He was really tired, and I don't think he was feeling very well either. He needs his rest.. he'll come out of that room eventually." She tried.

"You open that door and wake him up! Or do I have to come over there and do it myself?!"

She would rather not witness agent Lang emptying a bucket of water on her supervisor. She had the slight idea the house would be too small for the war that would surely unfold after that.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, she decided there was no other way than to obey her coach. Being as quiet as she could, she opened the door and peeked around the doorway. The thick smell of vomit hit her immediately. The man in the bed lay in a messy heap of blankets and his own coat, breathing heavily, she knew she should have given him that extra blanket. She approached the bed slowly, taking a closer look at the sleeping agent. His face covered in sweat, his hair plastered against his forehead.

"Oh my God.." she mumbled a little too loud.

"What? Cathy? What's going on?" The voice on the other end of the telephone now sounded worried instead of angry and impatient. But she was more focused on the sick man in front of her right now, than agent Lang's want for answers. Placing the phone on the night stand for a moment, with Lang still frantically calling her name, Cathy sat down on the side of the bed and reached out to smooth Mahone's hair back gently. He opened his eyes almost immediately, as if startled by her touch, and tried to focus on the blurry image in front of him.

"Sir? Can you hear me?"

"Yea.." He rasped, his gaze still unfocused. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but failed as his arms refused to support his weight. He fell back into the pillows, exhausted from the ordeal. "I threw up in your trashcan.." He mumbled. "I'm sorry.."

"Don't be sorry, sir." Cathy shushed him kindly, placing the back of her hand against his forehead. He was burning up, blinking slowly at her through half lidded eyes. His attention was drawn to the telephone on the nightstand, with Lang still trying to get someone to talk to her. "Is that Lang I'm hearing?" He mumbled weakly. She handed him the phone, and he cleared his dry throat.

"Morning, Lang.."

"Alex! What is going on there?! Are you alright?! What happened last night?!"

"One question at the time, Felicia, please.." he begged her softly, and it seemed to work, for the frantic woman calmed down. While explaining in as many words as he could what had happened last night, Cathy decided to let the agents talk and make herself useful elsewhere. She opened the bedroom window, allowing cool fresh air to enter the stuffy room. She cleaned out the unfortunate trashcan, and returned to his bedside with a basin of water.

"I gotta tell you, Lang.." He mumbled weakly, still on the phone with his colleague as he looked up at the girl wringing out a cloth. "You got one hell of an intern." He gave Cathy a faint smile and a wink when she placed it on his forehead gently. "I'll see you in a few hours, Lang. Let me know if you got something new for me." He returned the phone to its owner and lay his head back down in the soft pillows, exhausted from the conversation. "she's coming over as soon as she can. She probably wants to see this mess for herself." He chuckled joylessly. "I really can't afford a sick day."

She poured a glass of lukewarm water. "There is no helping it now, sir." She told him softly, helping him take a few careful sips. "Let's hope the worst is over." He was silent as he watched her straighten the covers on his bed, again humbled by her kindness. Her willingness to help him.

"I doubt it.." He sighed, feeling his stomach contract at the water. "You might want to consider giving me that trashcan again.."

She was already tripping over her own feet while running out of the bedroom, and returned a second later with something else than the trashcan, a much friendlier, and smaller, looking bowl from her kitchen. He had wished it was false alarm, and his body would somehow calm down so he didn't have to empty his stomach into her salad bowl, but the feeling only worsened, and he found himself bend over it eventually. He tried to concentrate on her hand going over his back in strange patterns, the feeling soothing, comforted like a child by its mother. Then again, he didn't really know what that felt like. But he had witnessed Pam caring for Cameron in the same sort of way.

"I am so very sorry for this.." He mumbled eventually, the feeling passing now his stomach had relieved itself once more. "You should have never offered me a ride.." he chuckled bitterly.

"I'm so glad I did, sir." Her tone soft as she took the bowl from his lap. She seemed not the least bit disgusted by him, just worried, and much too sweet for the line of work she was training herself for. Placing the bowl on the nightstand for a moment, she gently guided him back down into the pillows, refreshing the cloth on his brow. "I wouldn't have wanted you to get sick in front of a witness or something."

"I gotta get back to work.." He complained softly, unable to do as much as lift his arm without exhausting himself. "I should have asked Lang who talked to that guy instead of me. She should have told me about.. all of that." He panted, out of breath and frustrated with himself.

"She will tell you when she's here. She's coming over in a few hours, sir. You just told me that yourself. You can ask her then." She hushed him gently, trying to keep him calm. And it seemed to work cause he nodded and somewhat relaxed.

"I'm so tired.." He mumbled, shivering from fever. "You gotta promise me you'll wake me when she's here, Cathy. Promise me you'll do that for me.." he begged her softly. "Don't let me sleep, please."

She gently dabbed his sweated face with the cloth, nodding at him in reassurance. "I promise I'll wake you when agent Lang is here, sir." He seemed a little unconvinced, and that had been her own fault. She had let him sleep in her car, not waking him up to talk to what perhaps could have been a key witness, she could very well do the same now. "I will personally empty a bucket of water on your head, how's that?" she chuckled. He frowned in confusion, but after a moment the corner of his mouth twitched in what would seem to be a weak half smile.

"Well if that is what it takes.." He mumbled, letting out a breathy chuckle.

Smiling, she got up from the bed and grabbed the bowl. "I'll go clean this out for you. Try to sleep for a bit, sir. Please, don't fight it." with a last gentle squeeze in his arm, she left the small bedroom, leaving its door ajar. He listened to her going about her kitchen for a while. Cleaning up after his absolutely disgusting mess, and chatting to her dog happily. Her soft, uplifting voice comforted him, and eventually, lulled him to sleep.

There was enough for her to occupy herself with at home while agent Mahone rested. The only difference was that everything that involved the hallway, had to be done as silently as possible. Figuring he would be asleep for a while to come, she thought it would be alright to leave him alone for a few minutes while she walked her dog. He hadn't moved an inch when she returned, his body in a state of complete shutdown. But thankfully, there were no more spells of vomiting to keep him from his sleep.

It was around 11 in the morning when agent Lang arrived at her intern's home, having taken one of the service cars. "I couldn't come any sooner, there were developments that needed my attention first." The agent said, taking off her shades, as she was lead down the hallway to the kitchen. "How's Alex?"

Pouring a cup of coffee, Cathy took a few moments to contemplate the right answer. "He's.. doing a little better than early this morning, I suppose. No more vomiting." She handed her worried looking coach her coffee.

Lang sighed deeply, taking a careful sip. "I had honestly hoped Alex's issues wouldn't catch up with him when he was alone with you. I do take the blame for all of this. I was the one putting you two in a car together. I could have known this to happen."

Cathy was quiet for a moment. "I.. I really don't mind. Really, I'm glad this didn't happen anywhere in public." She argued softly. "He could have gotten sick in front of someone important."

"Still I have to tell you, Cathy.. you disappointed me with your lack of obedience. Beneficial to agent Mahone's health or not.. Lord knows what could have happened to the both of you while driving around in a civilian car at night!" Lang said sternly.

Cathy swallowed thickly at the berating tone in the woman's voice, and dropped her gaze to the tiled floor of her kitchen. "I..I know I.. was reckless in the way, and I am sorry for putting him in danger like that.. I meant well." she defended herself shyly, and it seemed to work, cause the female agent's eyes softened.

"Yes well anyway.." Lang continued, taking a few files from her purse. "The man he was supposed to speak to yesterday evening turned out to have nothing useful for us. He didn't miss out on much, thankfully." She placed the documents on the table. "He'll want to read this when he wakes up, I reckon."

Cathy blinked at the stack of papers the agent had brought Mahone. "He might be too nauseous to read but.. I'll offer it for sure, ma'm"

"Mahone is not staying here." Lang spoke dryly. "I'm here to pick him up and take him home. Be glad I didn't send Wheeler to do this for me.." she said, a clear warning in her voice as she chucked back the remains of her coffee. "Show me to his room."

"It might be better not to move him though." Cathy tried carefully.

"Don't push it, Cathy." Lang threatened. "I think the three of us know just in how much trouble you are. I strongly advise you to not make this worse." She got up from her chair, motioning for Cathy to show her to her supervisor. She lead her down the hallway to the dimly lit guestroom, smelling a lot better than a few hours ago.

If agent Lang thought it to be a shame to wake the sleeping man, she didn't show, for she approached Mahone's bedside with confident strides, and placed her hand on his bare shoulder. "Alex.."

Stiffly, as if his entire body hurt, he rolled onto his back, placing a hand over his eyes to block out the light. "I'm up.." He croaked. "I'm up..what's going on? Is my phone ringing?" Lang frowned in worry at the disorientated man, kicking himself awake with impressive determination.

"Alex, I'm here to take you home." She said, giving him a chance to process her words. Blinking against the blurry image, he pulled himself into a sitting position slowly, the world dancing in front of his pale eyes. His body protested against the upright position, and he felt much like laying down again, but he pressed his back against the headboard instead.

"What time is it?" He mumbled, looking around the room.

"Around 11.30.." Lang told him dryly, and picked up his white shirt from the carpeted floor. "You think you can walk to the car? Or do I have to call Wheeler and ask if he can come over to carry you?" she was teasing him, and he gave her an unamused look.

"I rather drag myself, thank you." He mumbled, pulling the shirt over his head slowly, the small action alone exhausting him. Amused, Lang chuckled. "I'll wait for you outside." She told him, and left to let him dress himself. If he could, he'd rather stay under the warm covers of this comfortable bed. This house had a cosy feel to it. Much like his own home used to be when Pam and Cameron were still with him, and he hadn't been in such a place for a long time, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel at home somewhere.

With difficulty, he got out of bed and on his feet. Still dizzy, he felt his stomach turn at the vertical position. With a hand on his upset belly, he managed to put on his pants, stuffing his tie in one of the pockets. Lang was waiting for him in the hallway, leaning against the wall, she seemed absorbed in texting someone. Probably Wheeler. The guy probably had a field day learning about all the details of Mahone's little adventure with the intern.

"I'll be right with you.." He told her, and dragged his feet down the hallway in search for Cathy. He found her in the kitchen, and she turned to him when she heard him enter, giving him that same warm smile as before.

"I made you some tea.." she spoke shyly, making a small hand movement toward the steaming cup on the counter. "It'll soothe your stomach."

He leaned against the doorpost, feeling his knees protest. "Thank you.." He mumbled. "Not just.. for the tea but.. for everything."

She smiled, nodding at him. "You're welcome, sir. I suppose I won't be coming back to the office I.. I hope to see you when I come to collect my stuff." She looked down at her feet, her bunny slippers that had seen better days.

Sighing, he walked up to the counter. "I'm not going to dismiss you." He told her gently. "Unless you've decided to finally listen to Sullins and not work for a trainwreck like me.." Smiling at her lightly, he picked up the cup and took a careful sip, the hot tea calming his stomach within seconds.

"You're not a trainwreck, sir. Everybody can get a stomach bug." She sounded dead serious, but he knew she knew he had meant his pills. He also understood she was telling him his secret was safe with her, and no more words would be spoken about it. "I'm just worried about what my school will say about all of this." She continued. "I mean, it will be in my records that I disobeyed a Federal Agent.. If this gets out. And I don't think agent Lang will sweep this under the carpet. I probably wouldn't either, had I been in her position."

"I wouldn't worry about that, if I were you." He told her calmly. "I don't exactly plan on handing out details about this to anyone willing to listen. No, if I were you, Cathy.. I'd worry about that car out there. Cause that thing.. is a death trap."

She stared at him in silence while he sipped his drink. "Will you be alright by yourself, sir?"

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile. But smiling had never been one of his talents, and so it just made him look awkward. "I'll be alright." He told her.

They both fell silent when they heard Lang's heels on the tiled kitchen floor. "Alex?" Her wary gaze switched from her supervisor to her intern and back, but she refrained from saying anything. "I just got a call from the office, they got something on Scofield."

He turned toward his colleague and nodded. "Yes.. yes, I'll be right with you." Impatient, he turned back to the young girl, his mind somewhere else now, yet he tried his best to come up with another way to show his gratitude. "Take the morning off. I want you at the office by one. Understood?"

Cathy nodded, her evident smile beaming. "Thank you, sir." He nodded, and had wanted to say more, but the words were lost to him. So he turned on his heels instead, and followed a worried looking agent Lang down the hallway. Following them to her doorway, she wrapped her cardigan around her more tightly against the morning chill. She watched the two agents get into the big black car, Lang's movements gracious and swift, Mahone's stiff and strenuous.

The first ten minutes if the car ride was spend in silence, and Mahone had put on his sunglasses to shield his tired eyes from the bright winter sun.

"You want breakfast?" Lang asked. He looked at her with a half annoyed, disgusted expression, causing her to chuckle. "Just asking." The jostling of the car caused his stomach to act up again, complaining against the sharp movements. He groaned when she hit a speed bump a little too fast.

"Come on, Lang." He whined. "I just chucked down a whole cup of tea to not seem like an asshole to that girl. Take it easy on me, would you."

Lang just laughed, she was having the time of her life teasing her normally so impeccable supervisor. "I think I'm going to pull in for some donuts.. I feel like donuts this morning." She continued, causing him to moan again. Yet she drove right by the donut store, not actually wanting him to feel any sicker. And in Cathy's example, she took a small drive through the city to give him the extra few minutes to collect himself before pulling over in front of the office.

R&R


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for all the reviews, favs and follows! 3 Enjoy!

Chapter 3:

It didn't really matter to her who had been the one to tell Sullins that Mahone had spent a night at the intern's home. But when the Internal Affairs agent showed up three days later, everyone on the workfloor seemed to be mentally preparing themselves for the moment Mahone would arrive at the office. As Cathy had clearly seen demonstrated a few weeks ago, Sullins and Mahone didn't get along very well. And the presence of the head of Internal Affairs at the field office, never went down peacefully.

When Sullins announced his wish to talk to Mahone, Wheeler ordered Lang to call her superior and tell him he was needed at the office asap. And when Lang started to hiss back at being given orders by someone of the same rank as herself, Sullins intervened.

"You know what?" He said, giving Cathy a curious look. "Let Alex pamper himself for as long as he wishes. Trim his whiskers, I don't care. I think I wish to talk to miss Wright alone first."

Cathy felt herself shrink under his stare, and, noticing her nervousness, Lang turned to Sullins.

"May I be present too, sir? I believe, as her personal coach.." But his hand told her to stop talking.

"Gonna cut of you off right there, agent Lang. Thank you. I think me and Cathy are perfectly capable of having a little chat. Just to two of us. Will you come with me, Cathy?" He said.

She gave Lang a pleading look, but all the agent could give her in return, was one of sympathy. As she followed the Internal Affairs agent to a little back office, she was pretty sure she had never felt more nervous in her entire life. Even her first talk with him, with the presence of someone from her school, had been less frightening. She had been excited to have been invited in for an interview. But now, she knew what Sullins was capable of, and she knew how much he disliked agent Mahone. Her aiding him, wouldn't work to her benefit now. And she was going to hear all about it. When he closed the door of the office, he kindly motioned to a chair for her to sit down.

"Have a seat, pumpkin."

Mister Richard Sullins had a kind and open smile, one that made you feel comfortable about telling him things. No doubt he had been trained to give out such vibes to anyone willing to sit across his desk, ready to rat on another agent crossing the line. He had given her coffee, lots of milk and three lumps of sugar, just the way she liked it.

"So, Cathy.. can I call you Cathy? How have you been holding up here in this..zoo?" He asked, his eyes still scanning over the rapport that carried Wheeler's signature, so he had been the one to inform Sullins about the situation

"Ehm.." she started shyly, rubbing her arm nervously. "Fine. Everyone has been really nice to me." He looked up, gazing at her from over the rim of his glasses, and smiled.

"Yes, so I've heard." He said, placing the files on the desk and leaning back in his chair. "Agent Lang has been kind enough to offer you a place as her trainee, is that right?"

She nodded. "Yes, she..she's been so nice to me..and has really taught me a lot already."

"I see.." He mumbled, letting his fingers roam over the four page rapport. "Then you must feel it as a personal defeat that she's.. sort of disappointed in you..and your..rather poor choice of bonding..with her colleagues ..as of late."

She simply gazed at him in silence.

"You care to explain to me what happened between you and.. agent Mahone.. that faithful day? Or night.." He spat out Mahone's name like it was a curse word, like he had trouble calling the man an agent at all.

She could only tell him the truth, and once she was done explaining, it seemed to be quite the disappointment. He had probably hoped for a tabloid worthy story about agent Mahone jumping the bones of an innocent young girl, but nothing could have been further from the truth. The only thing she left out, was the pill she had seen Mahone take.

"I see.." Sullins started after penning down his notes. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "You know.. what worries me about this.. is not you, being the kind little fairy you are, taking in agent Mahone.. what worries me about this story..is that he let you."

She blinked at him in confusion. "What do you mean, sir?"

He leaned over his desk, folding his hands in front of him, pondering on how to formulate his words. "well you see.. I know agent Mahone.. quite well, I have to say. About as well as anyone. And what I'm missing from your story.. is his reaction when he found out you did not deliver him at the place he needed to be." He gazed at her, raising his eyebrows in question. "I guess what I'm trying to find out.. is if the man..perhaps.. hurt you? Maybe not..physically but.. verbally?"

"No!" she protested, feeling cornered. Although it wasn't completely true. Mahone had yelled at her, but it had been a passing fancy, and the ferocity could have been worse. "He's been very kind to me!"

Sullins simply raised an eyebrow and looked down at his papers. "Right.." he sneered. "That is another problem I have with agent Mahone. You see, the people.. around him..seem to entertain this mutual opinion that whatever he does, however he does it, is kept between the walls of this office." He had a slow, calculated way of speaking, one that betrayed his inner frustrations with the man up for debate right now. "They seem to think they owe him some sort of loyalty.. you get what I'm saying, Cathy? Did you pick up any of that? Cause if he told you.. not to say anything.."

She interrupted him, angrily. "He didn't tell me anything of the sort, sir." She said, trying to calm herself, though she was trembling with anger. "All I said is that I was worried about what my school might have to say about this. And he told me.. not to worry about it."

There was a short silence.

"Right.." he sneered again. "See, it's those kind of things.. that worry me. Because.. now I'm wondering what he's planning on telling your school. Because, you see.. that's not his job." He paused for a moment, staring at her impassively with a hand on his chest. "That's my job. I was the one assigning you to this team? Was I not?"

She nodded shyly. "Yes, sir."

"So all communication toward your school, go through me.. right? Did you tell him that? Or were you just relieved it was going to be taken care of like he said it would be. You can be honest with me, Cathy. I'm here for the truth. If I don't get the truth.. There's no point for me being here. That's what Internal Affairs is all about, pumpkin. Truth."

She looked down at her hands in her lap, fumbling with the fabric of her old cardigan. He had her there. "I was relieved it was going to be taken care of.." she whispered.

He let out a deep sigh. "Of course you were. Nothing wrong with that. You're young, and still learning, you're allowed to make mistakes, that's what you're here for. You're not the one who did anything wrong here. You got me? It's he.. who should know better.. about lots of things."

The silence was deafening, and for the second time, he leaned toward her, folding his hands in front of him on top of the files.

"You're not in trouble, Cathy.." He said smoothly. "We're all very grateful that you were there when agent Mahone decided to crash upon the pavement like the diseased dog he is." He sneered sarcastically, like he wished the man dead above all. "And I'm sure he could be very persuasive toward your teachers that this is the right place for you.. but you don't owe him, Cathy. You hear me?"

She nodded, not able to look at him.

"Let me take care of your school.." He suggested. "And you will continue to learn how it's done here, okay? In a proper, non-manipulative environment. And I suggest you don't look for trouble, anymore. We got a deal?"

She was about to voice her agreement, when the man continued.

"I'm going to reassign you under agent Wheeler's care. I believe he'll be of a more valuable asset to you and your learning process."

She felt her stomach turn at his proposition.

"Oh no, Please don't, sir.." she stammered. He looked up, unamused, and sat back in his chair. His head tilted in mock surprise.

"What's that?" He asked.

"I don't want to be under agent Wheeler's care. I..I like where I am now. With agent Lang." She protested. He mocked his further surprise and bewilderment, like she had just told him the greatest insult he ever heard.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" He started. "You are this close from being kicked out of a learning spot many people of your position would be willing to give their right hand for. And you think.. you have a say in the matter?"

"I just.." she closed her eyes for a moment to calm herself, and exhaled slowly. "I just think agent Wheeler and I aren't a good match to be a in car together.. for a long extent of time."

"Right.." He sneered. "And I suppose Mahone.. would be the better choice?"

She said nothing. At that moment, a loud ruckus erupted on the work floor outside the office, two male voices yelling at eachother, and seconds later, the door was swung open with such force the blinds were knocked off the window when it hit the wall. Mahone stormed into the small room with a murderous expression on his pale face, and Wheeler was in close pursuit. Sullins got up from his chair slowly, his calculating stare in sharp contrast to Mahone's furious gaze.

"Are you having meetings with members of my team now, without my knowledge?!" Mahone started.

"Alex, so glad you could join us." Sullins spoke with a silky voice. "I have been meaning to ask you to share your side of the story. And maybe you'd like to do so right now? I'm sure you don't mind miss Wright being here for it? After all, you two have shared so much already.."

The insinuation was enough to make Mahone's lip curl in an angry snarl, and he took a step closer to the desk. "God, you must be really bored at IA to bother yourself with dealing out interns among my agents. Is that what's going on, Richard?! Did you sell this.. this girl to Wheeler in turn for information?!"

"What information are you referring to exactly? Is there something agent Wheeler is supposed to tell me?" Sullins provoked. Mahone didn't say anything in return, and stared the man down for what seemed like forever, but then he turned to Cathy.

"You don't need to answer any of his questions.." He said.

Sullins pursed his lips in anger. "It it is to your mutual benefit that she does answer my questions, Alex! But if you're willing to answer them for her, by all means. Have a seat. You were there with her afterall."

Agent Wheeler was still standing in the doorway trying to become invisible, and agent Lang had joined the group the moment she noticed there were two angry men surrounding her personal assistant in training. Mahone didn't take a seat, and remained standing, his expression fuming.

"I have just told miss Wright I'm reassigning her under agent Wheeler's professional guidance." Sullins continued, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible while staring into Mahone's furious blue eyes. "I believe he will be more.. beneficiary to her learning process than agent Lang, who after all, is usually quite occupied with cleaning up your mess." In the doorway, Lang folded her arms over her chest and cleared her throat softly.

Mahone clicked his tongue in annoyance, and turned away. "I don't have to listen to this.."

"Perhaps you don't, Alex. But if you give a rat's ass about this student you saddled up with your discombobulated way of interaction, you stay put and listen to what I have to say." Sullins shot back.

"Can I say something?" Cathy peeped. The room went deathly quiet, and Sullins' expression softened when he turned his attention back to her.

"Go ahead, pumpkin."

"I am.. so sorry that this, in my eyes, minor incident led to such chaos inside this office. That was not my intention at all. I simply tried to aid a person who really seemed to be in need of help." She explained carefully, her voice shaking. Leaning against the wall, Mahone shifted slightly and gazed down at his shoes. "Please, sir. You have to believe me when I say agent Mahone just needed to sleep off whatever was troubling him." she begged softly.

Sullins observed her quietly, and let his eyes go through the room, looking at the reactions on the faces of everybody present in the small office. "And we all quite admire you for that commitment to help others, miss Wright.." The IA agent started, formulating every word with the outmost care. "I could even go as far as to say that some people in this room could learn from that." She looked down at her folded hands again, feeling herself blush. "Isn't that right, Alex?"

There was no response from Mahone other than an annoyed huff. At that point, Lang decided to step in.

"I can confirm miss Wright's observations, sir. I myself concluded that agent Mahone wasn't in very good shape when he left the office with her." She spoke from behind Wheeler's narrow shoulders.

"Well then why didn't you take care of that yourself, miss Lang? After all, Alex is your trusted co-worker, not to mention superior, so why would you hand him over to someone so young and inexperienced like miss Wright here? We all know Alex isn't the type of dog that goes well with kids." Sullins mocked.

Lang could only frown at the low insult, but Mahone seemed to have formed a grin on his pale face and didn't seem impressed, much less offended by the remark.

"What are you guys doing in this office anyway?" Sullins suddenly said, giving Lang and Wheeler an annoyed look. "What, are we having some sort of group therapy session here right now? Get out. This is a private meeting."

It was Wheeler who pushed himself past an agitated looking Lang to grab the door knob and close it softly, muttering his weak apologies to the female agent. A short silence followed in the small office. And all that was heard, was agent Mahone shifting his weight as he leaned against the glass window, now with the blinds closed.

Sighing heavily, Sullins threw his pen down on the desk as he leaned back in his chair. "Look, I really don't care about what you two did that night. It's a free country, and she's over eighteen.."

"Will you listen to yourself." Mahone hissed through gritted teeth. "Your mind is so rotten, you just can't let it go that we don't have a juicier story for you."

"Oh, Alex." Sullins mocked. "If I was allowed to dig a little deeper into your personal history, the juice would literally be seeping off the pages. But you know what? Right now.. My only concern is the wellbeing of the first student we ever accepted in our midst. That is something to treasure, isn't it? I think it is." He crossed his right leg over his left lazily "Which is why you'll be under agent Wheeler's care from now on, miss Wright."

"Naturally.." Mahone mumbled.

"You got something to say, Alex?" Sullins asked sharply.

"No, I don't care what you and Wheeler say to eachother in the little back rooms. Or how many times you two call eachother late at night like two school girls gossiping. But if you're so concerned about the wellbeing of your little pupil here, you wouldn't take her away from Lang just because Wheeler decided to go for the fresh meat. That is all I have to say about the matter!" Mahone said.

Sullins mocked his surprise like he had done earlier. "You seem to understand agent Wheeler's motives better than I do. Possibly better than Wheeler himself." He said calmly. "I'm simply taking miss Wright away from a, what I consider to be, toxic environment. Didn't she see enough of you yet, Alex? Or would you like to vomit over her My Little Pony collection again?"

Mahone was at the desk within a second and slammed his hand down on the table top with such force, the pen made an impressive bolt into the air.

"God help me if I find out you sold her out to Wheeler because of this bullshit!" He barked.

"Wheeler volunteered for this.." Sullins started.

"Yea, I bet he did!" Mahone cried back, staring the IA agent down.

"Because he's as concerned as I am.. about how we guide and educate these young people we allow into our teams…Alex.. if you let me finish, thank you very much." Sullins continued, doing his best to remain calm.

"Concerned! Oh please!" Mahone said, backing away from the desk. "I've seen Wheeler make eyes at that girl ever since she got here. If you put her in one car with him, you're gonna make her life a living hell just because she was stupid enough to help me! Is that what you want, Richard?!"

Cathy watched Sullins' eyes as they followed Mahone pacing the room behind her, sometimes they narrowed, and then they relaxed again. "You been noticing any of that, pumpkin?" He asked, his eyes switching to hers.

She felt herself grow red, and was about to mutter a reply, when Mahone intervened again. "She's not going to rat on Wheeler for you. You know what you did, Richard? You assigned a girl to my field office that has no sense.. no sense at all.. of the indecency required for this job! You assigned.." He started laughing bitterly. "A student to my team that I guarantee will never make it into the FBI for aslong as she lives. And that is just the sad bitter truth about it.. Come on. You really want to see Wheeler mess her up even more? She's useless to you, Richard.. All she knows how to do is be kind to people." He was quiet for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. "And she was kind to me, and you hate her for it. But you cannot let that influence your treatment of her. I won't let you."

Sullins gazed at the agent impassively. "You won't let me?" he mocked. "What do you plan on doing about it? Is Wheeler going to be another accident you expect me to sweep under the rug?"

"I'm still in charge of this field office, I can dismiss this girl whenever I want to. And mind you, I will do exactly that if I find out you put her under Wheeler's care just to get at me, Richard!" Mahone shot back. He calmed himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I will ruin her career, don't make me."

Cathy was quiet as the two men continued their argument about her future. They talked about her as if she wasn't even in the room. And perhaps that had been the reason Mahone had deemed her unfit to become a federal agent. She was invisible, too shy. She sipped her coffee calmly, fighting the urge to peer over her shoulder at the agent pacing around behind her chair.

"I wonder if Wheeler knows how little credit you give to his integrity." Sullins chuckled bitterly. "But I do find it truly touching how eager you are to come to little Cathy's defence, Alex. I suppose she really made an impression on you." He gave Cathy a warm smile and a quick wink. "Let's see how it goes with Wheeler. Give her a chance to stand up for herself, how about that? If he's getting creepy.." Sullins shrugged, his smile never leaving his face. "You call me, and I'll give Felicia her kitten back. How does that sound, pumpkin?"

Unsure, she peered up at Mahone, who had come to a halt beside her chair. His expression was hard to read, and she realized he was leaving the decision up to her. So she nodded, not wanting to appear weak. "Alright.." She spoke softly, hearing Mahone click his tongue in annoyance. "I'll see if.. if agent Wheeler can teach me as much as agent Lang did."

"Why, that's the spirit!" Sullins said in mock excitement. "Good sport, pumpkin. You're becoming a regular old rookie, are you? You can be proud of her, Alex. She's getting that spunk all members of your team seem to entertain after serving under the enormous, unrealistic, pressure you like to put on them." He gathered his files together and shoved them unceremoniously into his briefcase, like the whole situation had lost his interest out of all sudden.

"Maybe you should stop assigning children to my team so my agents can focus all of their attention on their job, instead of educating your tax refund." Mahone said menacingly.

"Very funny, Alex. Very witty." Sullins mumbled while putting on his coat and closing his briefcase. He turned to Cathy with a smile and shook her hand politely. "I'll be seeing you soon for your midterm evaluation. Stay outta trouble, pumpkin." With one last wink, he turned and left, with no word of goodbye to the agent.

A painful silence followed, yet she was surprised to find out Mahone stayed behind, and didn't march out of the office the moment he was dismissed from the conversation.

"Thank you, sir." She said, her eyes to her folded hands in her lap. "For coming to my defence. I was sure he.."

"You weren't sure of anything.." He interrupted her sternly, agitation in his voice. "And now you got yourself a ridiculous deal that will put you under Wheeler's care, and I can assure you, the man will love it way too much. But you got yourself into this mess, and I really don't have time for this.. you're his problem now. Enjoy the rest of your internship."

With that harsh comment, he left her behind in the small office. She watched him go, ruffling his hair as he stormed across the workfloor, shaking off the anger to concentrate on something more important. Her gaze turned to Wheeler talking to Sullins, accompanied by an unamused looking Lang. The female agent's protests were dismissed by a rather determined looking Sullins. And when the man took his leave, and Wheeler tried to say something to her, the woman refused to answer and walked away without another word. From that day forward, Cathy was agent Wheeler's assistant.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the reviews, favs and follows! You have no idea how much they mean to me! Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Agent Wheeler was only six years her senior, but he acted like he had been around forever and had seen it all. He made her carry a notebook around, so she could write down all the information he gave her throughout the day. And that was a lot. Agent Mark Wheeler was a real chatterbox when he had someone following him around, carrying his briefcase and coffee, that needed his guidance. He wasn't even half bad at educating her, he just enjoyed it a little too much, just like Mahone had predicted.

Lang had given her time to adjust to every face at the office, and had taken great care in selecting small assignments for her to practise on. Stuff that didn't necessarily add to the investigation, but what Mahone liked to call "a background overview" And in his defence, the man seemed genuinely interested in finding out Bagwell's childhood family dog was buried at a pet cemetery.

Wheeler took a very different approach. The first few days, it seemed like he was punishing Cathy for whatever wrong she had committed in his eyes. He made her get his lunch, clean out his car, and clear out his desk while he sat back in his chair munching on a sandwich. And all the while he would talk to her, expecting her to take notes. He told her all about the law and how jurisdiction worked. He spend a day explaining the proper use of a firearm, without ever touching his own gun. And last but not least; he made her write a ten page essay on peer pressure, coping with higher authorities, and the dangers of corruption.

She didn't complain. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of crawling back to Lang, or even inform Mahone about it and have him set loose on the younger agent. Lang had offered it as an option nonetheless. If you tell Alex about this, they will have to surgically remove that notebook from Wheeler's intestines, she had said. Cathy doubted it. The agent in charge of the team didn't seem interested in what went down between her and Wheeler. As she knew he could do, he locked himself away in his private office, bend over files, photos and lists.

There was a storm over lake Michigan the night Cathy stayed at the office late to finish her essay. It was due the next day, and Wheeler had voiced very clearly he would personally contact her school should she fail to finish the homework he assigned her. And so, while the wind blew leaves against the foggy windows of the office, she typed away on her old laptop. The FBI office ceased to close now the investigation had gotten more serious. There were always a few agents present, to alert the others the moment fresh news would come in. It only caused Mahone to be even more reluctant to go home, and she could see him work just as hard as she did from over the screen of her computer.

It was around one in the morning when she had fallen asleep over her keyboard, creating about 20 pages worth of "FFFFF" in addition to her nearly finished essay. She shot up in her chair when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to find Mahone standing next to her. His vibrant, ever alert, blue eyes red rimmed with exhaustion.

"Sir.." she started, placing a hand to her chest to calm her heartbeat. "You startled me."

"I'm sorry." Mahone spoke calmly, holding a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. "What are you doing here? You should have gone home hours ago." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and ruffled his hair, making it look like he had put his finger in an electricity output.

She yawned behind the back of her hand, the sleeves from her oversized cardigan covering her hands. "I need to finish this essay agent Wheeler assigned me. It's due tomorrow." She explained, and yawned again.

He held out his coffee to her, smiling weakly. "Have a sip."

She took the cup from him with a shy, grateful smile and blew on the hot beverage to cool it down before taking a careful sip. The mug warmed her hands and she felt a shiver run down her spine. She was so tired, her body refused to warm up. Mahone rummaged through his trouser pockets for his glasses and bend over her desk to take a look at her work. He chuckled softly at the 20 pages of F's he had to scroll through.

"You should give it to him like this." He suggested. "Might make him realize what he's putting you through." She said nothing, sipping on the hot coffee slowly as she watched him delete the F's with slight agitation.

"There. Done. Go home, kid." He said as he saved the file and shut down her computer before she could protest.

"I'm still three pages short." She argued softly, staring at the black screen of her computer.

"You can finish that tomorrow. Come on, on your feet.. where's your coat?" He looked around, like a tired father preparing his child to go to school, and spotted her winter coat thrown over another chair. He helped her into it wordlessly. "You can finish that.." He nodded at the half empty cup of coffee in her hand. "One big gulp.. "

She tried to shoot back the remains of the coffee as he suggested, but made half of it trickle down her chin anyway. She laughed at her own clumsiness, and heard him click his tongue in faked annoyance.

"If you pulled that stunt in a bar serving shots, you'd be spilling 30 bucks down your shirt." He told her, smiling lightly.

"I'm not good with shots anyway." She chuckled shyly.

"Lightweight, eh?" He said, teasing her gently. He looked exhausted, but he was making an effort for her nonetheless, repaying her for her kindness in his own mysterious ways. Sometimes he was on fire, and nothing gentle could come from his mouth, other times he was as careful with her as a young father with his newborn child. "That's a good thing though. You stick with your tea, kid."

"I could use a beer now." She said, wrapping her scarf around her neck. He smiled at her softly, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets while he leaned against her desk.

"Have one for me too. I can't stomach any alcohol at the moment.. As you know. But.. boy do I miss it." he chuckled bitterly. His medication didn't serve well with alcohol. It didn't even completely serve well with caffeine, but the stomach cramps were something he could ignore aslong as his mind had something to focus on. She didn't say anything in return, and simply watched his expression go through all sorts of emotions.

"It's kinda nice.." He started, staring at the floor. "Have someone around who knows about it. I don't have to put up an act around you, or hide it from you. I just hope I didn't..saddle you up with information you might not be able to handle. I know it's something you don't particularly want to see from someone who's supposed to be a good example to you." He laughed bitterly, nervously. "I'm not so sure I would have been as forgiving as you had I been in your position."

"I think it has little to do with forgiveness, sir. And more with acceptance. You're the best agent on this team, probably of any team." She told him calmly. He said nothing, and took to rubbing the floor with the nose of his leather shoe.

"Alright, kid. Off you go. Get some rest." He told her, giving her his usual weak smile, the one he forced for those that deserved it. "Drive safely."

She nodded, answering his smile with her own, and made her way to the door, but there she stopped, and turned to him. He was still standing in the same place, and raised his eyebrows in question at her hesitation.

"I was just thinking.." She started. He blinked at her slowly, but he was listening. "If I leave now, you're just going to stay here all night, are you, sir?"

He sighed heavily. "Probably, yea."

"In that case..I'm staying too." She said determinedly and placed her backpack on one of the desks, pulling her beanie hat from her head. "Cause I know I won't be able to sleep knowing you're here all night, sir. And if I can't sleep, I might as well make myself useful. That is something you taught me."

For a moment, his stern expression didn't change, and she was sure he would give her the lecture of a lifetime, but then he started chuckling. "Some lesson.." He mumbled, and picked up the empty coffee cup, holding it up to her. "Black?"

She smiled. "Three lumps of sugar and some milk."

"You got it." He said, making the cup twirl around his finger. "Move your stuff to my office, I'll turn on the heat."

She bit her bottom lip to contain her excitement. Somehow the thought of working alongside agent Mahone, in his own little office, just them together, made her feel giddy and nervous at the same time. His desk was big enough to house two computers and a double amount of books and files, the only problem was that the door couldn't completely open anymore with the extra chair. So when Mahone returned with their drinks, he had to worm his way through the small entrance.

"Here you go, kid" he said, handing her the steaming cup of coffee. "Freshly made cheap office coffee. The kind of stuff they like to cut on first." Creating more room on his desk by removing his penholder and some other insignificant items, he took a sip from his coffee, and turned toward the heater. "I have seriously never touched this thing before, so I could very well be doing something incredibly stupid by trying to turn it on." He chuckled, turning the knob. Something clattered in the pipes as water started filling them, and he looked up at the ceiling as if he expected it to come down any minute. "I guess that did the trick.." He mumbled.

She chuckled at his antics while sipping her coffee, waiting for her computer to start up again. She needed a new one, badly. But she didn't have the money for such a purchase right now. "It was in the newspapers last week. An older couple, living in a very old house, poisoned themselves with their broken heater." She said.

He sat down at his desk, and gave her a small smile. "Yea, thanks for sharing that.." He chuckled, putting on his glasses.

While the small office warmed up, their work continued in silence. All that could be heard in the small room, was her typing, and his nervous page turning. Sometimes he stood up to gaze at a map of North America hanging on the wall, and wrote down notes on certain states, his scribbly handwriting unreadable from where she sat. She did her best to not let him notice she followed his every movement, he had granted her access to his own sanctuary, and she realized it was a form of trust he didn't bestow on many people. Not even agent Lang was allowed to linger in his private office while he was working.

The storm hit the shores around three in the morning, and all hell seemed to break loose outside. The wind howled when it passed their building, and the rain clattered against the windows. But he seemed undisturbed by the ferocious weather, and didn't comment on it once. She had never been a hero with weather like this, and she silently wondered if her dog was alright. The neighbours took care of him tonight, so he was probably fine.

When a loud crack of thunder ripped through the sky, she jumped in her chair, knocking her knees against the underside of the desk. He looked up at her from over the rim of his glasses.

"I'm sorry, sir." She apologized, feeling stupid. "I hate this weather."

He said nothing, and his attention went back to the file he was reading through. The second round of thunder caused her to do the same thing, this time knocking over one of the empty coffee cups. Mahone sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses. He stretched, his arms above his head, and let himself slump in his chair again.

"How is your essay coming along?" he asked, distracting her from the violent weather.

"I'm at the last page." She said, smiling at him. He didn't smile back, and she figured he was too exhausted to do anything at the moment. The cosily warm office didn't exactly help with staying awake. He said nothing as he pushed his brain to go over the information he was reading, absorbed in his thoughts. She rubbed her arm nervously, a question bothering her. "Sir, Agent Lang told me you had a talk with agent Wheeler about me. What did you say to him?"

"There's cake in the fridge.." He mumbled, not looking up from his reading.

She stared at him in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"In case you're hungry. I guess it was someone's birthday today, I don't know." He still didn't look up. She realized he didn't hear her question, and laughed.

"Do you want cake, sir?" she chuckled.

"Yes, I do.."

Still giggling, she got up from her chair, and wormed her way out of the office to get them both a slice of cake. The small kitchen of the field office didn't look like it was supposed to serve the greatest Federal agents of the country. It resembled more of an outdated coffee room belonging to a post office. There was indeed half a cake in the fridge, he must have noticed it when he got the milk to put in her coffee. Whoever it belonged to, it was theirs now. She cut two big slices, only now realizing how hungry she was, and put them on small plates.

"Cake for dinner." She announced when she returned to the office, and placed his plate in front of him. "I kind of feel bad for eating this, since I didn't congratulate anyone today." She chuckled.

He shrugged, not interested, and shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth.

She didn't get an answer to her question, but perhaps it was something she didn't want to know anyway. Maybe he did hear her, and had decided to change the subject. He had proven before, that no matter how submerged he was in his work, he always seemed to hear exactly what people said to eachother on the workfloor. Especially when it involved his name.

It was 4:30 in the morning when she finished her essay, and she was sure she had never been more tired in her entire life. Her eyelids had become increasingly heavy, and now felt like she was trying to move bricks with her eyelashes. Yet Mahone seemed fully awake, and never ceased his work for one minute, she didn't even think she had missed him going to the bathroom. He had been right there with her all this time.

He helped her print out her 10 pages worth of Wheeler's bullshit, as he liked to refer to it, and when he left the warm, small office for a minute to collect it, she allowed herself to rest her head on her arms for a moment. She was almost asleep when he returned, her long hair covering most of her face. She only vaguely felt him place his coat around her shoulders, but other than that he did not try to wake her. Through half lidded eyes, she watched him sit down at his desk again and continue his work. His coat was warm around her shoulders, and carried the musky scent of his sweat. The silence of the office, combined with the sound of agent Mahone's calm breathing as he worked, send her off to sleep eventually.

She was briefly stirred from her slumber when his phone started ringing. She didn't know how long she had been out, but he didn't notice her opened eyes behind her curtain of hair, and left the office while he answered his call, closing the door behind him. It wasn't agent Lang that called him, his voice sounded different when he talked to her. He hardly replied, and when he did, he sounded short, almost angry. The exact words of the conversation were lost to her. And when he returned, he moved around his office in an agitated manner, as if he was looking for something. She braced herself for a rude awakening when he moved over to her with a few long strides, but all he was interested in, was the black pen in the inside pocket of his coat. He unscrewed the top, and swallowed the little pill with a quick movement, flushing it down with cold coffee. He made a face at the bitter taste, and inhaled and exhaled deeply for a few minutes, before returning to his work. She lost the battle with sleep again, and drifted off.

The office was no longer clouded in silence when she woke up again. The workfloor behind her was crowded with people, the televisions were on, the news was blasting through the room. Her back ached softly from her bend over position. Agent Mahone wasn't in his chair, and her tired eyes went through the small office in search of him. She found him by the wall, writing something on the map. She tried to move, but her back argued against it, and she decided to keep still for a moment longer when she heard the clicking of heels approach the private office. Behind her, the door opened, hitting the back of her chair roughly.

"Alex?" Lang's confused voice caused the agent to turn around, his pen still on the map. "Is everything alright?"

He nodded, and placed his finger against his lips before pointing at the slumbering intern, bend over her laptop. There was a short silence as agent Lang took in the strangeness of the situation.

"How long has she been here?" She asked.

"All night." Mahone answered, keeping the volume of his voice to a minimum. His attention back to the map as he stuck pins on certain locations. "Wheeler made her write some ten page essay."

"He did what?" Cathy smiled when she heard the obvious irritation in Lang's voice.

"Yea, that's why she stayed here. To finish it." Mahone mumbled, removing a few pins and relocating them. "Call Sullins for me, would you, Felicia? Tell him.." He was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving the map and the files he held in his hand. "Tell him Wheeler is making her write essays she doesn't need to write." He mumbled, taking off his glasses to read something, the irony of it almost humorous.

"I will." Lang said, looking around the office, she spotted the empty plates, littered with cake crumbs. "It seems you two build quite a party in here." Amusement in her voice.

"Oh yea.." Mahone confirmed. "It was crazy."

Lang chuckled. "Don't let Sullins find out.." she said, and turned to leave.

Cathy had fallen asleep again shortly after that conversation, and it was Wheeler who woke her a few hours later. She shot up in her chair, startled by his rather rough shake on her shoulder.

"Goodmorning, miss Wright." He sneered, looking down at her with an annoyed expression. "I presume you have a valid reason for sleeping in the office of a superior?"

Disorientated, she looked around. Mahone's desk was empty, and the agent himself was nowhere to be found. "Where is.." she started.

"Your hero?" He finished. "We don't know. As usual. So there is no reason for you to be in here. Did you finish your homework?"

She nodded, smoothing her hair back as she sat up slowly, her back protesting against the movement. Mahone's coat was still around her shoulders, and she huddled under it more tightly when the cold air of the workfloor came rushing in through the opened office door. "Yes, sir..It's.." she looked around, spotting it in a corner of the room, on top of a file cabinet, a neat little stack of papers with a yellow post it note on the front. Stiffly, she got up from her chair to hand Wheeler his essay, but her attention was drawn to the note, and she didn't look at him when she held it out for him to take, completely uninterested.

"Here it is, sir." She mumbled, her eyes focused on the note. He grabbed it from her roughly, unamused at how she was smiling at the small yellow piece of paper.

"Your lack of interest tells me a lot about the content of this essay, miss Wright." He barked, but she didn't hear him as she stared at the few written words staring back at her. Mahone's scribbly handwriting for once readable to her tired eyes.

 _You might make a decent agent yet, Cathy._

 _Be back in a few days,_

 _M._

R&R


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for all the reviews, favs and follows! They make my day! ^_^

Chapter 5

Agent Mahone had been gone for days when they finally heard he was in New Mexico, and had successfully intercepted the fugitive brothers from crossing the Mexican border. Agent Wheeler had briefly spoken to him on the phone right after the news of the capture had gone national. Their conversation had been short, and Wheeler ignored agent Lang when she asked if agent Mahone was alright. He would be escorting the prisoners back to Fox River the next day.

Cathy was shoving her laptop into her backpack, readying herself to go home, when she heard Mahone had been shot. It was agent Lang who broke the news to her, as Wheeler avoided talking about Mahone as much as possible, trying to ignore the man's very existence. The woman had her comforting hand on the young girl's shoulder as Wheeler addressed the shocked agents at the office.

"Alright, people, listen up. I know everyone is worried about agent Mahone, alright? And of course we wish him the best, and to get well soon. Then again, we're not here to babysit agents who work themselves into trouble, nor do we run a trauma office. The main problem is that Scofield and Burrows are on the loose again. Let's focus on that, people, shall we? There's a more important job to be done here." He spoke with a loud and clear voice. As his colleagues resumed their work, he turned to Cathy and agent Lang.

"And I expect the same from you two. While agent Mahone is off duty, I am in charge of this field office, and I don't want any unnecessary time spend on contacting a man lying in a hospital bed somewhere in New Mexico. Am I clear?"

Cathy felt herself nod weakly, but Lang didn't budge and stared the young agent down like she was about to show him every corner of the workfloor.

"Felicia? Am I clear?" Wheeler repeated.

Out of pure frustration at the use of her given name, Lang squeezed Cathy's shoulder harshly, and the young girl frowned in agony. "That is still agent Lang to you.. Mark!" She spat. "You cannot forbid me to try and lay contact with a wounded colleague."

"We did lay contact with him, agent Lang." Wheeler said, folding his arms across his chest. "I briefly spoke to some nurse, and she said Alex was going to be just dandy in time, alright? What more do you want? Now do I have to call mister Sullins to inform him you're obstructing an investigation?"

Lang narrowed her eyes in anger. "I'll even dial the phone for you. I have a thing or two to tell him myself!" she hissed. "Come on, Cathy." She made a move for the door, but Wheeler stopped her in her tracks.

"You are indeed dismissed, agent Lang, for today. Yet Cathy is my personal assistant, and I'll be keeping her here, thank you." He said.

"Enjoy it while you can." Lang shot at him, and let go of the young girl's shoulder before walking out of the office, leaving Cathy behind.

Wheeler clicked his tongue in disappointment. "You see, miss Wright? It costs one so much energy to be hot headed. You are much better served taught by someone who knows how to remain calm in any situation."

Cathy said nothing, and started unpacking her backpack again, figuring she'd be here for a while longer.

"How long have you been with us now?" Wheeler asked. She frowned at his question, and thought for a moment.

"Ehm.. four months, I think, sir?"

"Four months. And you've already been through so much. I feel for you, Cathy, I truly do. I wish.. I wish I could have given you the internship you deserve. You see, I had such a good time learning under this excellent example of a federal agent. I was under his care for over a year and.. oh what am I doing. This is a story for after work, don't you think?"

She shrugged, logging into her computer in silence.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asked. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and probably a slightly disgusted expression she wasn't even aware of.

"Excuse me, sir?"

He gave her a cheeky grin, sitting himself down on the side of her desk, right on top of her favourite scarf, she gazed at it miserably. "It really is a good story. I promise you. And you know what else, Cathy? I can even give you his number. Put in a good word for you. A girl of your potential deserves better than some edgy field office. You've made some mistakes in the past, interacted a little too.. intimately with some shady people but.. other than that, I think you're making progress. And that needs to be rewarded. So how about dinner?"

She could only stare at him in utter disbelief, and said nothing. There were a few things that came to her mind that she would have liked to say to him at that moment, but none of them were very friendly, or would have secured the continuation of her internship.

"I.. have plans tonight." She lied. "I.. have to go out with.. my dad.."

He tilted his head at her. "Really? He came all the way from New York just to have dinner with you tonight? Is he in the city now? Call him, let him pick you up here. I'd like to meet him."

She swallowed nervously, feeling trapped. His expression darkened as he got up from her desk slowly, towering over her.

"I'm a lot better than agent Mahone, Cathy. You be careful about who you refuse next time. This world is like a playground. He might be playing with the big boys, but I'm very much liked by the teachers and I can ask for anything I want. You think about that." With that message, he left her behind, and she only now realized her legs were shaking. She hid her face from the other agents, peering at her curiously, and fought back tears of humiliation and despair. She wasn't about to let anyone think she needed help. And besides, most agents present preferred being under Wheeler's supervision. Since agent Mahone demanded every minute of their time, no exceptions.

It was only later, around eleven in the evening, when she came home and was greeted by her dog in a cold and dark house, that she allowed the tears to fall freely, and her backpack to slump off her shoulder to the floor. She didn't know why agent Wheeler was so determined to make her life a living hell, but he was doing it on purpose, and that fact confused her beyond belief. Maybe it had something to do with what he thought her to be sharing with agent Mahone, but that seemed so petty, and so below someone like Wheeler, she quickly disregarded the idea. He was a man of integrity, or so he liked to view himself, but the fact he shamelessly blackmailed her into having dinner with him or else, told her something else completely.

Slowly, her tears turned to anger, and she kicked off her jeans with such force, they hit the lamp on her nightstand. It fell to the carpeted bedroom floor and shattered to pieces. Rufus, who had been standing in her doorway wagging excitedly because of her return, retreated back to the kitchen with his tail between his old legs.

"I'm sorry, Rufus.." she mumbled, but the dog didn't return, and she slumped down on the side of her bed, her anger vanishing slowly. As she felt the tears return, she gazed at agent Mahone's note, carefully preserved on her nightstand, right next to Sullins' business card. In case of emergencies, he had said. Or if Mahone started throwing with trashcans, she remembered bitterly. Something she had never seen him do, while everyone expected him to. Or when agent Wheeler acted creepy. Something he had been doing for days, despite everyone telling her she was much better off under his care.

Perhaps calling Sullins wasn't such a bad idea right now. Agent Lang had tried to talk her into it for for days now. Call him and tell him what Wheeler says to you. All the innuendos he makes. The tones he uses to address you with.

But Cathy saw it as a sign of weakness. Like she was giving Wheeler exactly what he was aiming at, call someone to come and save her. Daddy Sullins to the rescue, breaking up fights between agents since God knows how long. She wondered how many times the man had dealt with agents displaying unwanted flirty behaviour toward colleagues.

She reached out to grab the business card, fumbling with it in her hands for a while. Her phone was right next to her, she kept it at close proximity in case agent Lang received news on agent Mahone. A stray tear dropped on the little piece of paper, smudging the IA agent's name, but not the number itself. Her dog returned to her bedroom as silently as his big paws could carry him, and sat down next to her, his sad droopy eyes undoubtedly asking her why his food bowl was still empty.

"I don't even know if the man will pick up his phone at eleven in the evening.." she mumbled. "What do you think?" she asked the dog. The Great Dane just gazed at her lovingly, adoringly, like he always did. It made her chuckle despite her tears and she reached out to scratch him behind his long ear. "Should I call him?" The Great Dane sighed heavily, like dogs can do, and placed his heavy head on her knee. "You don't know either, hm?" she remarked, chuckling softly.

She really didn't want to need Sullins. But right now, calling him to tell about Wheeler's nonsense seemed a better idea than putting up with it. She really didn't want to spend another day listening to the young agent's success stories about past cases, or the low gossip he liked to spew about agent Mahone, or even agent Lang. She grabbed her phone angrily, letting her thumb roam over the keys for a moment.

"Alright, here we go. Wish me luck." She said. The dog just peered up at her, his head still on her bare leg. The call went over two times before it was picked up.

"Sullins." His stern monotone voice made her close her eyes for a moment, calming herself enough to talk to this man.

"Good evening, sir. This is Cathryn Wright."

There was a short silence on the other end. "Oh yea, Cathy. Sorry about that, I'm a little busy. What can I do for you, Pumpkin?"

God, she hated that pet name. "Well I.. there's something I need to talk with you about, sir. And you told me to call should I need to get anything off my chest." She started carefully.

"Yea.. shoot. What you got for me?" He sounded painfully impatient, and that didn't add to her already fragile courage.

"I wanted to talk to you about agent Wheeler.."

"yea just.. put that on my desk, thank you.. I'm sorry, Pumpkin. I'm still at the office. I'm listening.. I'm listening. What did he do?"

She waited a moment, feeling tears build up again, she tried to fight them back with all she could muster, not wanting him to hear her cry. "He.. eh.." her story was interrupted by her landline phone ringing in the living room.

"You alright, Cathy? Did something happen?" She had his attention now, if she wanted to share anything with him, now was the time. The phone in her living room didn't cease its ruckus, she could hear it switch over to her voicemail, but no message was left. Seconds later, it started ringing again. Perhaps it was her mother trying to reach her.

"I'm..I'm alright, I just.. I'm sorry.. this phone." She said, walking to her living room to make the annoying machine stop ringing. Her hand was on the chord to cut the power when she caught a glimpse of the number that was trying to reach her. She recognized it from somewhere, but she didn't remember from where.

"Alright, Pumpkin. You gotta talk to me if you want me to understand what's going on, okay? And if you're not ready to share it with me, you can always call me back later. How's that? Calm yourself down first, alright?" Sullins' tone had softened. "You can call me anytime you want."

"Yes, sir." Her attention was too drawn to the ringing phone to even notice him hang up. That was agent Mahone's cell phone number. All the times she had sat right next to agent Lang when her phone starting buzzing with the combination of digits that was trying to reach her right now, there was no mistaking. She never gave the number of her landline phone to her school, and she didn't remember giving it to Sullins either. As if her arm was led by an invisible force, she picked up the phone and pressed the button to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Cathy?" Agent Mahone's voice, normally so clear and commanding, sounded strained, like every word caused him the greatest effort. "It's agent Mahone."

She sank down onto her couch slowly, still in shock about who she was talking to at the moment. "How.. how are you doing, sir? Are you calling from the hospital?"

"Does it really surprise you if I say no? I'm pretty sure Felicia has given you her say on the matter more than once by now.." He tried to chuckle, but it sounded pained. "And she was probably right too."

She was quiet for a moment. "Where are you, sir?"

"I eh.." he coughed a little, breathing heavily. "I just got home. And.. the power is out.. I don't have any warm water.. I think I forgot to pay a bill or two." He chuckled bitterly. "They cut me off. I even got a dead plant. I wasn't gone for that long, was I?"

"Few days.." she said softly, listening intently. "Can the plant be saved?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm glad it's gone. I know my wife she.. she used to put plants in the bathtub. Let them sit there for a whole day. That seemed to work miracles. But I'm telling you, if I can't take a shower, that plant isn't going to get a bath either."

She couldn't help but laugh at his story, and it seemed to be contagious, cause he followed her example, albeit strained.

"Do you want me to take you to a hotel, sir?" she asked. "I can make reservations for you in ten minutes, if you like. I can get my laptop and.."

"The thing is.." He interrupted her. "I'm not sure I should be alone tonight. I passed out in the plane when it landed.. passed out in the back of a cab, for crying out loud. Poor driver didn't know what was hitting him, thought he was dealing with some overdosed junkie, I bet. Well.. he wasn't completely off track, I guess."

She listened to him carefully, he sounded out of it, like he hardly knew what he was saying. He was exhausted. "Would you like to stay here tonight, sir?"

"I really shouldn't ask that of you.. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me again. That's not fair, you're so young.. you're at the start of everything, I don't want to fuck that up." The lump in his throat was easy to hear, and she frowned in sympathy.

"Where do you live, sir?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "Felicia is gonna kill me.."

"She's been very worried about you, sir. We've all been very worried about you." She argued gently.

"I'm at 5002 Bleecker street. Oak Park. You know where that is?"

She nodded, then mentally kicked herself. "Yes, sir. I'll find it, sir. I'll be with you as fast as I can."

"Yea, try to drive the speed limit while you're at it, though. I'm not going anywhere." He mumbled. "See you in a bit."

Her dog was going to have to wait for his dinner a little while longer, and the Great Dane watched his owner stumble through the house in sheer panic trying to put on her jeans while grabbing her purse, cell phone and trying to remember where she'd put her car keys. She was standing in front of her door with her hand hovering above the door knob when she realized she was going to need a street map of the city. Running back into the living room, she searched through a few drawers, making it rain papers and old agendas while looking for what she needed. The street map had belonged to her father, and was outdated and withered with age, but it would have to do.

Tripping over her own backpack in the narrow hallway, her shoes still untied, she made her way to the door, the Great Dane in nervous pursuit until she told him to stay and slammed the door shut in front of his nose. Her car refused to start at first, as it tended to do in all things that needed to be done fast, smooth and agent Mahone related. "I swear I'm taking you to the scrapyard first thing tomorrow if you don't start.." She mumbled to the old Ford. The liberating sound of the engine echoed through her quiet neighbourhood moments later.

With the street map folded open over the steering wheel in front of her, she took off. There was hardly any traffic on her way to the other side of the city, with Oak Park as her destination. It took her about thirty minutes before she pulled up in front of the blue house with the white fence. The front door was left ajar, probably to get some of the light of the street lanterns. She knocked on the doorpost to let him know she had arrived.

"Sir? I'm here. Are you ready?" she called softly, walking slowly down the dark hallway. She passed a completely empty room, the walls decorated in wallpaper featuring all sorts of cars a trucks. A little boy's room. "Come out, come out, wherever you are.." she mused to herself. The house, that looked so cheery from the outside, had something sad and cold on the inside. Entering the living room, it looked like agent Mahone had suddenly decided to move out. There was hardly any furniture left. But before she had time to think about the situation, he appeared from another room, carrying a duffle bag.

"Hey.." He greeted her tiredly.

She smiled in response, happy to see him in one piece, despite his messy unwashed hair and the white shirt that had seen better days. "Evening, sir. Are you good to go?"

He nodded, looking down at the bag thrown over his right shoulder. "I think so. You want something to drink before driving back? All I can offer you is warm coke.. " He asked, giving her a weak, lopsided smile.

"Let's get out of here." She suggested, there was a heavy mood inside this eerie, empty, house. As if its walls were still trying to cool down after what they had heard. Thankfully, he nodded in agreement. They left the deserted, dark house in silence, but he locked its front door with almost affectionate care, preserving what was inside, little that it was.

Throwing his duffle bag on the back seat, he sat down beside her, cradling his wounded left arm to himself. The jostling of the car ride would give him every discomfort possible, but he was nonetheless grateful to be sitting down again, and rested his head back gently.

"I thought Wheeler would have given you one of the service cars by now." He spoke, trying to make conversation. He didn't have to for her, she could hear the pain in his voice. He grimaced in agony when she hit a speed bump, and groaned softly.

"Well, if he offered me one of the cars, he wouldn't be able to offer me rides home anymore." She mused bitterly. She could feel him look at her, but he said nothing in response. A silence followed, and when she glanced over at him, he held his head in his hand in agony.

"Are you alright, sir?" she asked, switching her eyes between him and the road in front of her.

"No, pull over.." he suddenly said. She frowned in confusion, was he joking? "I said pull over! Stop the car!" He spoke more urgently, his commanding voice leaving no room for disobedience. She pulled over, causing a car behind her to honk its horn in annoyance as it sped by them on breakneck speed. Agent Mahone had left the car before it had come to a proper halt. She could hear him retch behind the crash barrier beside the road. Grabbing the quilt from her backseat, she got out of her car and approached him slowly. He was standing with his back to her, still heaving pitifully. She gently placed the quilt around his trembling shoulders, mindful of his wound, and frowned at the sight of his pale, sweat covered, face.

He pulled the quilt around himself more tightly, but it took a few more seconds before he had collected himself enough to speak. "Thank you.. It's the side effects of the anaesthesia. Nothing to worry about. Or so I've been told."

"Do you have any medication to calm your stomach, sir?" She asked. "Are they in your bag? I can get them for you.."

"I have no medication. They didn't give me any." He answered, sitting himself down slowly on the guardrail. His breath visible in the cool night air. He gazed at her wearily, almost apologetically, like a child getting scolded, his breathing heavy and strained. "I left before I was dismissed." He explained. "So they had no time to write out a prescription for me."

She stared at him like a deer in headlights. "You're doing all this without anything to fight the pain?"

He shrugged, and immediately regretted it as he shifted his wounded shoulder. "The pain is durable. It's the vomiting and the passing out that really messes up my day." His voice hoarse from the acids he had been forcing through his throat. "They gave me some aspirin on the plane. I thought I had some at home but.. I couldn't find it in the dark. Felt sorta stupid for looking for painkillers while stubbing my toes left and right. Seemed counterproductive."

She sat down beside him, at a loss for words, and felt herself shiver when a cool rush of wind blew past her. He had obviously felt it too, for he wrapped a part of the quilt around her, and pulled her closer to his warm side, his skin glowing hot from fever.

"I really don't want to smell like vomit every time I talk to you." He mumbled. "But it'll make for quite the interesting final rapport on your internship. Special agent Alexander Mahone, smelling like the inside of his stomach whenever I talked to him, taught me nothing except how to stay awake past my bedtime, stealing someone else's birthday cake is okay, and any form of drug abuse is totally acceptable as long as you do it secretly."

She burst out laughing, and it caused him to chuckle too.

"Come on.." He said, getting up slowly, gingerly. "Before we both freeze to this rail."

R&R please!


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you so much for all the reviews, favs and follows! They really brighten my day! Enjoy!

Chapter 6

They had been driving for a while when Cathy noticed the agent had fallen asleep, his head resting against the back of his chair. With his eyes closed, he wouldn't notice her wandering glances, and she finally had a chance to study his condition a little more closely, while still minding the road ahead of her. She would never know why there were smudges of dirt on his face, or why there were small specks of blood on his shirt. And she would lie to herself if she didn't wonder why he had left the hospital prematurely, but it all didn't matter right now, he had come to her for help. And no matter how much she hated this old car, it seemed to soothe the nervous agent into sleep every time.

She was leaving the high way behind, taking her exit, when his phone started ringing. He woke with a start, searching his pockets for the frantically buzzing phone. He seemed to freeze for a moment when he saw the name in the blue screen, but then he picked up carefully, clearing his throat softly.

"Hey, how's Cam doing?" There was a pause, and a frantic female voice responding. He sighed heavily at her words, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'm not in Colorado yet, Pam. I can't make it there tonight.. Yes, I know I said I would." He locked eyes with the curious intern for a moment, and turned himself away from her, as if embarrassed. "Just tell me how Cam is doing." Mahone continued, a little impatient. It seemed the woman on the other end of the line showed little mercy, for he sighed in frustration, his impatience turning to aggravation. "You know that isn't true, so why would you say such a thing to me?! Just tell me how he's doing! Because I'm busy, Pam! I can't just.. drop everything and fly to Colorado, I can't!" When the woman hung up, he threw his phone on top of the dashboard angrily, knocking over a bobble head dog, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Rufus.

A few painfully silent seconds followed. "I was sort of fond of that.." Cathy mused sadly, peering at the broken toy. "But it's okay. I'll get a new one." Agent Mahone rubbed his eyes tiredly and ruffled his hair in an agitated matter, something he always did when he tried to calm himself.

"I'm sorry.." He said suddenly, snapping out of his trance, he leaned over and grabbed the two pieces from the dashboard. "I didn't mean to break it. I'm sure I can fix this thing." He started fumbling around with it impatiently, forcing the oversized dog head back into its socket. "My son is in the hospital." He explained softly, still trying to figure out how the toy could be fixed, cause now the head refused to bobble, and that was kind of the idea of the whole thing.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Cathy said, worry in her voice. "What happened to him?"

He didn't respond right away, concentrating on the toy for a while. Finally, the dog head bobbled again, and he placed it back on its original spot on the dashboard carefully. "He got hit by a car." He continued. "His leg is broken."

She swallowed thickly at his story, not sure what to say. "I broke my leg when I was six years old." She started. "Fell out of a tree like a complete idiot. It healed without any complications." She hoped her irrelevant story helped cease his worry a little. Breaking bones at such a young age could be dangerous, but with the medical knowledge of today, only few cases caused permanent damage. "He'll be alright." She added, giving him a small smile. He nodded, not looking at her, instead he peered at the road in front of them.

"What's his name?" she asked carefully.

"Cameron.. Can we just.. not do this?" he said sharply, giving her a warning glare.

She nodded quickly, and decided to just focus on getting home instead. No more words were shared between them, and she pulled into her driveway ten minutes later. He got out of the car slowly, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, and grabbed his bag from the backseat. Following her into the house, he received a warm welcome from Rufus, who seemed to recognize him and had obviously decided to like this human being.

"He likes you." Cathy said, turning on the lights in the hallway and guestroom. "And he's not that fond of men actually."

Mahone chuckled bitterly, petting the dog on its head. "Smart dog.."

She had the guestroom ready for him in just a few minutes, the bed now decorated with a few spare blankets. He wouldn't be forced to sleep under his coat tonight, she made sure of that. A little hesitant, he placed his duffle bag on top of the covers, listening to her run through her own house, and sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his knees. Rufus had been circling around him curiously, sniffing his trousers, until he heard his food bowl being filled.

"Would you like tea, sir?" she asked from the kitchen. The sound of a very hungry dog wolfing down his kibble while shoving his metal bowl through the entire kitchen made him smile despite the pain.

"You got anything stronger?" He tried to raise his voice, but it came out croaked and rather pitiful.

"You sure that's a good idea, sir?" was her soft reply. He chuckled in response, looking around the cosy bedroom for a moment. She had turned on the lamp on the nightstand for him, its dim glow made him feel more at home.

"Probably not.." he mumbled to himself.

She appeared in the doorway of his room moments later, holding a stack of towels. "Would you like to take a shower, sir? I can wash that shirt for you, if you like." Her kind offer rendered him silent for a moment, and all he could do was gaze at her wearily. Now in a warm and safe environment, his body gave in to his exhaustion.

"I should probably take a shower, yea." He spoke softly. "You got a plastic bag to put over this.." He looked at the big plaster on his left shoulder. "Whatever this is.."

She nodded. "I'll get it for you." She placed the towels beside him on the bed. "There's soap and everything you need in the bathroom. I'm sure I got a spare toothbrush somewhere too. I think I know where it is.." She was about to leave when he stopped her.

"Cathy.." he said with a wheezy voice. She turned to him. "Thank you.."

She smiled at him warmly. "No problem, sir. Let me go find something to wrap that in.." But there were a few more things he needed to say to her.

"I didn't mean to snap at you in the car. I really appreciate what you're doing for me." He continued, looking quite out of breath. "I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful, it's just.." He stopped, swallowing thickly.

"It's been a long day, sir." She filled in for him. He blinked, gazing off into nothingness. Something as simple as just a long day seemed so foreign to him now. Things were always much more complicated than that. But she had a way of treating the most complicated of things with a simplicity that felt like a breath of fresh air.

"Yea.." He agreed softly. "It's been a very long day."

With a last comforting smile, she left. He was probably supposed to get up from this bed, get settled in his room, and prepare for his shower. But somehow his muscles refused to obey his mind, and he remained sitting in this comfortable, quiet spot as if numbed by an unseen force. He was also supposed to be sitting at his son's bedside now, like any good father would do. And offer comfort to the boy's mother, like any good husband would do. But instead, he was once again shamelessly abusing the hospitality of a 24 year old schoolgirl with the nerve to give a rat's ass about him. She had dropped everything to come and get him out of the dark empty pit that was his house at the moment, and had given him the sanctuary of her warm, welcoming home.

Cathy returned in what seemed like seconds. In truth, she had been looking for a roll of plastic kitchen foil for over ten minutes, and found him in the same way she had left him. She froze in the doorway for a moment.

"Are you alright, sir?" she asked quietly. He looked up at her, a dazed expression on his face, shaken out of his deep thoughts. But then he nodded, and looked at the roll of plastic wrap in her hands. "Well, this is probably going to be the weirdest thing I ever did in a bedroom." He joked softly. His dead serious face made her chuckle.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." she said, sitting down next to him while she rolled out the plastic foil. Slowly, gingerly, he took off his dirtied shirt and allowed her to help him wrap his wounded shoulder in the transparent foil. Like she expected him to be made out of glass, her touches and movements were careful and considerate. He didn't really have to do anything himself, his right hand was only in the way of what hers were trying to do in a much more efficient matter, so he gave up on helping her, and let her take over. She seemed so focused on her task, it made him nervous.

"So how's Wheeler been treating you?" He asked eventually. She was out of his view, sitting on the bed on her knees with the roll in her hand, wrapping it around his torso gently. Her answer was a small huff, and it told him everything. "You gotta tell Sullins about this, Cathy."

"I was on the phone with him when you called, sir." She argued softly, coming back into view as she followed the roll to the front of his chest. "I couldn't tell him about Wheeler. I don't want to need him."

"That's admirable.." Mahone said, gazing at the wall ahead of him. "And a little stupid. I mean, what's the point of this whole internship if the guy that's supposed to teach you everything can't keep his hands to himself?" He looked at the girl, cutting up the foil and tying a neat little knot on the front. "Are you learning anything? Or are you just surviving?"

She swallowed thickly, picking up his shirt from the floor. "I want to be able to do this myself, sir. And I haven't yet figured out how but.. I do feel I'm learning more about myself. Does that count?"

He gazed at her for a moment, her tired eyes, her messy hair, and nodded. "Yea.." he said softly. "That counts." She smiled in response, his opinion important to her. It shouldn't be.

"I think you're all set, sir." She continued. "Want to get rid of that bracelet?"

He hadn't even noticed he was still wearing the tag they had given him at the hospital, and was glad to find out the sturdy material had outlasted his journey home. It contained all of his information. His patient number, name, and address. Even a special mark that was supposed to tell the hospital staff he was to be kept apart from other patients due to his confidential occupation. His nurse had been so kind to him, and he hadn't even bothered to ask her name. Holding out his arm, he allowed Cathy to cut through the plastic bracelet, like a mental patient escaping his cell.

"Can I keep this?" she asked, fumbling with the dirtied band. The writings, done with pen, faded and stained. "I won't let any of the information get out, sir."

Her request puzzled him, but he figured she just wanted to collect a piece of memorabilia from her adventure with the wounded FBI agent. So he nodded, and gave her a small smile. "Sure." She seemed grateful, her face beaming. "That way?" he asked, pointing at the door across the hallway. She nodded, and it was all he needed to get to his feet slowly and disappear into the bathroom.

While the water was running, and her dog was stalking the hallway curiously, she looked up the number of the hospital the agent had been treated at. She took a deep breath to calm herself before dialling the number of the service desk, making a phone call to a stranger had never been one of her strongest assets. She was put on hold for a few minutes, a busy evening was taking place half across the country.

"Albuquerque General Hospital, how may I help you?" The voice of a female desk operator made her realize there was no going back.

"Yes, this is miss Wright from Illinois, I wanted to inquire about a past patient of yours? Alexander Mahone. His patient number is 8394384." She read up the number from the plastic tag. Were they allowed to give out patient information like that?

"Are you a relative, ma'm?" That was a question she could have seen coming. She sighed, irritated.

"I'm not. I'm a.. colleague. I'm with the FBI."

"I'm sorry, ma'm. We're not allowed to give any information about our patients to anyone but relatives." The woman shot back.

"Look, I don't really need to know anything about him, okay? He's right here with me. I just know he left the hospital before he was dismissed, and didn't get any prescriptions. He's without medication, and I'm sort of nervous to let him go through the night without anything to help him. Could you help me, please?" She could hear herself beg, but her father had always told her nothing worked better than the truth in these sort of situations.

A silence followed on the other end of the line.

"Let me ask the doctor on duty if he can do anything, alright Ma'm? But I'm afraid he will tell me the same thing I just told you. One moment please." Without waiting for a reply, the call ended and she was put on hold. While she waited, she heard the water had stopped running in the bathroom. Stretching her neck, she peered around the doorway of the kitchen into her hallway, but the door to the bathroom was still closed, with Rufus as a silent sentinel splayed out in front of it. The agent was simply going to have to get used to tripping over a very large dog left and right while he was staying at her house.

"Diane Gilligan, Trauma ward. Good evening, miss Wright." A much calmer female voice said.

"Evening." Cathy mumbled shyly.

"I was mister Mahone's nurse for the short time we had him with us. I thought it would be best to talk to you myself, miss Wright. Take out the middle man, if you like. How is mister Mahone doing?"

Relieved to be talking to someone who cared, she felt herself calm down. "He's alright. But he told me he passed out on the plane travelling home. And then he passed out in the back of a cab. He threw up while I was with him. But he's doing a little better now, I think. He's taking a shower."

She could hear the woman type down every word on an old computer. "The vomiting is still a side effect of the anaesthesia, but it should have stopped by now, the poor thing. Has he taken any painkillers yet?"

"Aspirin, on the plane. But it didn't do much."

The woman chuckled softly. "No, I bet it didn't." she continued her typing. A printer could be heard spitting out the documents. "Since mister Mahone insisted on leaving us prematurely, I suppose we're just going to have to get his medication to him in a different way, wouldn't you say?"

Cathy smiled, the woman sounded so nice, she was glad to know agent Mahone had someone kind around him when he was hurt. "That would be great, thank you. I know this isn't the normal procedure.."

"Oh, honey. It's nothing I haven't seen yet, trust me. Alright, I'm going to have this signed by the doctor on duty, do you have a fax machine?"

"Yes, ma'm."

"I'll fax you the signed prescription. All you need to do is go to your local pharmacy, and pick it up. Easy does it. But I'm glad to know he's with you, miss Wright. He shouldn't be alone right now. And please tell him to take his rest." The nurse said.

"I'll tie him to the bed, ma'm." Cathy answered. She could hear the woman laugh at her little joke.

"Give him my best wishes. And I do hope his son is doing alright. Good day, miss Wright." The nurse hung up. Walking into the livingroom, she checked if her fax machine was indeed turned on. The glowing red light indicated that she hadn't been fooling herself. Her dad had specifically ordered her to leave the damn thing running at all times, in case her mother wanted to send her something. It had been a gift from her parents when they heard about the internship position she had been given.

Her small home had started to smell like shampoo as soon as the agent had finished his shower, and had moved back into the guestroom. Thinking she had given him enough time to put something on by now, she gently knocked on the half closed door.

"Sir?"

"Yea, come in. I'm not doing anything illegal in here." Came his strained answer. Chuckling, she opened the door. He was sitting on the side of his bed, his hands on his knees, much like the position he had been sitting in earlier. He had put on a pair of sweatpants, but had left his chest bare, the plaster looked like it had survived his shower.

"I was trying to make a decent pile of that roll of plastic.." he gestured at a messy heap of wet foil on the floor. "Thinking I might be able to use it again or something. But it's not very cooperative."

"Oh, don't bother, sir. I'll just throw it out." She rolled the wet material into a big dripping ball within seconds. He rubbed his legs nervously, obviously itching to say something.

"You got anything for an upset stomach?" He asked apologetically, like he felt like a bother. "Pepcid or something?"

"I'm waiting for your prescriptions to be faxed through, sir." She said, shoving the plastic into her trashcan. "I mentioned you were still feeling nauseous. There will be something to help you with that" He was silent, blinking slowly while processing her words.

"You called the hospital?" He asked in disbelief. She nodded, smiling softly. He gave out a bitter chuckle. "And they believed you?" His voice still sounded hoarse and broken. She gazed at him for a while. He looked better now the dirt was washed off his face, and out of his hair. But the skin around his eyes was puffy and red, like he had been crying all evening. He hadn't been crying, he was simply exhausted, and his eyes were protesting against every lasting second they were forced open.

"Nothing works better than the truth." She said, her voice soft, mindful of his tired head. He scoffed at her words, and swayed where he sat, feeling dizzy. "Would you do me a favour, sir?" she asked. He looked up at her with the dazed expression she had come to know so well, but raised his eyebrows as an indication he was listening. "Will you try to get some sleep while I go and pick up your medication? Will you do that for me?"

He averted his eyes from her kind face, and looked down at the carpet instead. "Yea, I think I can do that."

"I'll get you something in case you get sick again." She left his room, her steps light as she treaded down the carpeted hallway. Her kindness still humbled him. He would have never thought about calling that hospital to ask if he could still get his medication, even if he did leave before he was officially dismissed. That's why she wanted that bracelet, he mused silently, to get his patient number. She was a cunning little fox, he had to give her that.

Moving slowly, he got under the covers and laid down. His body protesting lightly against the sudden change in position, his head spinning from exhaustion. He threw the blankets over himself with little care, too tired to move another limb, and concentrated on his still laboured breathing until he heard her footsteps return. She entered his room with the same salad bowl that had kept him company the last time he stayed over, and made a face when she placed it on his nightstand.

"Please tell me you don't use that thing in your kitchen anymore." He mumbled.

She smiled, but didn't feel like responding to his small joke, like he was a child that needed to calm down before bedtime. She didn't dare to tuck him in, neither was she brave enough to sit down on the side of his bed. Not while he was in waking state anyway. "Will you be alright by yourself for a bit, sir?"

He sighed heavily, blinking at her slowly through tired, glassy eyes. "You really don't have to go out for me, Cathy. I'm too tired to feel any pain right now anyway. It can wait till the morning." His words sounded slurred, like he was already half asleep.

"It's no trouble." She assured him. He frowned with closed eyes, no longer able to keep them open. "I'll be back before you know it. I'm taking my phone with me. If there's anything wrong, I'll come right back." He nodded a little, his breathing evening out. She waited a little longer, standing by the side of his bed. His head sunk into the pillows as his body relaxed, giving in to his exhaustion. He gave no more reply when she said his name. Now that he had fallen asleep, she tucked the covers around him more tightly, covering his wounded shoulder with the warm blankets. She turned off the light on his nightstand, but left the light in the hallway on, in case he would wake up to use the bathroom. She didn't like the thought of leaving him, but he needed something to help him with the pain, and possibly fight off an infection. For now he was sleeping soundly, giving his body a chance to start its recovery.

While she had been with him, her fax machine had printed out two sheets of medical prescriptions, signed by a doctor, and ready to be picked up. She stuffed the documents into the pockets of her coat, and grabbed her car keys. Rufus walked her to the front door.

"You'll keep an eye on him for me, won't you?" she asked the dog. Rufus just wagged his tail in endless adoration, and watched his owner leave and close the door behind her.

R&R!


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, favs and follows! Sorry for the late update! Enjoy!

Chapter 7:

Cathy would never understand how there could be a line at the pharmacy at two in the morning, but of course there was, and picking up agent Mahone's medication had taken much longer than she had anticipated. The incredibly big woman behind the counter, obviously at the end of a very long and strenuous work day, had been less than cooperative, and eyed the young girl like she expected her to pull out a shotgun any time and demand the contents of her cash register. But the documents the hospital had prepared were in order, and after some complicated questions regarding the identity of the mysterious man she was picking up drugs for, Cathy was able to get back into her car with 350 dollars' worth of medication.

Her dog, although excited about her return as always, refrained from barking, as if the animal was aware there was a sleeping human being in the house that needed not to be disturbed. " Hey boy" she spoke to the Great Dane while ruffling his ears. "How's he doing?" She peered around the doorway of the guestroom, anxious to find out if anything had stirred the agent from his much needed sleep, or if he had decided to escape through the bedroom window and go on another rampage three states from here. But he had moved only slightly, now rolled into a ball on his right side, much like the position he had been in, in the back of her car. His breathing was calm, like it should be, and nothing about him seemed reason for concern.

Entering his room as silently as she could, her wintercoat ruffling as she walked, she sat down on the side of his bed carefully, not really knowing what to do next. She could let him sleep in peace and save the medication for tomorrow morning, which wasn't far away, or wake him now for his first dose of antibiotics and painkillers. She studied his face, softly illuminated by the dim light in the hallway. His hair still damp from his shower, it was going to look ridiculous in the morning, she smiled to herself thinking about it. She wondered why he kept ending up at her house, in her guestroom. And why she was one of the few people that had ever seen him do anything else but hunt his prey. She had seen him eat, sleep, act like a normal human being, something he was but didn't like to reveal to others.

His skin was smooth, but the stubble from not shaving for about two days had started to show. She hoped he had brought shaving supplies from home, she forgot about that at the pharmacy, not used to living with a man. There was a small cut above his left eyebrow, something of a few days old, yet still healing. She hadn't noticed it before, she could never gaze at him for very long when he was looking back at her with his piercing blue eyes. They looked like they could gaze right through her, and read her mind like he had proven he could almost do.

"I'll get you something for that too.." she whispered, more to herself than to the sleeping man in front of her. He frowned in response, as if he could hear her talk, but not understand her words. It was like her presence close to his sleeping form, was making him uneasy, for his frown didn't subside. His breathing accelerated in speed, and his eyelids trembled, the demons he faced in his dreams had gotten too close for comfort. "Easy.." she hushed soothingly, not wanting him to panic because of her sitting there. "It's alright.." He calmed slightly. "Everything is alright." She hesitated, then reached out to smooth his unruly hair back gently, running her fingers through the soft, thick locks. He stirred slightly at the contact, shifting his legs underneath the covers.

"Oh boy, your hands are cold.." he mumbled into his pillows. She withdrew her hand quickly, surprised to hear his voice.

"I'm sorry, sir." She said quickly. "I didn't realize.."

He didn't respond, his eyes still closed, obviously reluctant to wake up completely. After a moment of silence, he slowly pulled his injured arm out from under the warm blankets, wincing at the pain, and reached out for her hand, encircling it with his much bigger, and much warmer one. "Jesus, you're frozen solid.." he chided softly. "No more trips outside for you.. you hear me?" His voice, hoarse from sleeping, sounded slurred, as if he was only partly awake.

"I promise, sir." She told him, gazing down at his hand holding hers, her skin tingling while it warmed up. He was probably a lot warmer than he should have been, fighting a fever because of the lack of antibiotics. "How are you feeling?"

He nodded a little, half his face still buried in his pillows. "I'm fine.." he whispered. "But you're not going to let me get back to sleep before I've taken those pills, are you?" A soft smile appeared on his pale face.

"I wouldn't wake you unless it was absolutely necessary, sir. It will only take a moment." She pleaded with him kindly, and he nodded again.

"I'm doing my best here.. Give me a minute."

"Of course, sir. I'll go and get you some water." When she moved to get up from the bed, he let her go, the warmth of his hand leaving hers. She decided to leave his door open a little more, so he could get adjusted to the dim light. When she returned to his side, having taken off her coat, and armed with his medication and a glass of water, it looked like he had lost the battle with his exhaustion again. She placed the items on his nightstand as quietly as she could.

"I'm up.." He grumbled. "Do me a favour and don't turn on that light."

"I would never, sir. I don't want to hurt your eyes." She argued softly, sitting down on the side of his bed once more. He let out a big sigh, stirring himself awake reluctantly, and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, gently setting his sore back against the headboard. His entire body protested against the upright position, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He blinked harshly against the blurry and shaky image, and placed a trembling hand against his forehead. She gazed at him quietly while he slowly returned to the world of the living, and smiled in response when he winked at her, indicating he was alright. The clock on his nightstand revealed it was 4:30 in the morning. He frowned in realization she had been up all night. But if she was tired, she knew how to hide it well. He had seen it demonstrated before, and she had given him credit for that particular skill. He didn't know if he really wanted to be held responsible for that.

"Are you alright, sir?" she kept her voice at a low volume. Somehow it felt unnatural to speak loudly in the dead of night. He nodded a little, swallowing thickly.

"Yea, just.. dizzy. Alright, give me those pills. How many did you and that nurse decide on to pester me with?" His small smile told her he was only joking. She handed him the three pills, all a different size, and one a bright orange.

"Painkiller, antibiotic and something to calm your stomach, as promised, sir." She told him, giving him the glass of water. Used to swallowing pills quick and without drawing too much attention, he downed them all three at once, flushing it away with a big gulp of water. He made a face at the chemical taste in his mouth, and the cold water that felt like ice cubes on his tongue. She took the glass from him as he leaned back, resting his head against the headboard with his eyes closed.

"Thanks for picking them up for me." He said. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"Don't worry about it, sir. Please, just feel better."

He opened his eyes to gaze at the tired young woman sitting on the side of his bed, begging him to just feel a little better, and not worry about any money he might owe her. She smiled at him warmly, like she did sometimes. It was probably that smile that ticked off Wheeler like no tomorrow, for she only seemed to save it for him. Mahone hated to admit it at his age, but it had the tendency to make him almost shy.

"Go get some sleep, Cathy. I'll do the same." He spoke softly. "I don't want to give Wheeler another excuse to bitch at you for falling asleep during office hours."

"About tomorrow.." she started.

"I want to be at the office no later than nine." He filled in for her, while laying down on his back again to get comfortable. "So you best go to bed now, and get some rest. Cause I promise you, I will lift you from your matrass if you're not ready to leave at 8:30."

She chuckled, and got up from the bed. "Lift the bed so I roll off. Military style."

He smiled, but didn't bother to open his eyes anymore. "You better believe it."

She wished him goodnight, and left his bedroom, leaving its door ajar like before. It would only be a few hours before they would both have to get moving again, but for now, all was quiet. She changed into her pyjamas, and allowed her dog into her bedroom, and onto her bed. She didn't know why either. But for some reason, she needed the comfort right now, and the Great Dane was happy to comply. She set her alarm for 8:00, giving them both half an hour to get ready, although she expected the agent to be standing beside his bed by 07:00 anyway. While her dog shamelessly abused the situation by trying to roll himself into the crook of her arm, she gazed at the ceiling, trying to calm her still working mind. But the warmth of the big animal beside her, lulled her to sleep eventually.

It was her, and not agent Mahone, who woke before her alarm went off. Rolling over to peer at the red digits in the small, black screen, she sighed. 07:34, and no sound coming from her guestroom down the hall. The heavy medication on his empty stomach, had probably knocked out the agent for as long as she'd grand him his peace. It had no use going back to sleep for less than thirty minutes, and so, after rubbing the sleep from her tired eyes, she pulled herself out of the bed, and wrapped one of the blankets around her as she shuffled her feet to the kitchen. She mumbled her groggy goodmornings to her dog, who had left her bedroom as soon as she had fallen asleep and now lay stretched out on the kitchen floor. Yawning, she tried to make coffee with one hand, while the other held the blanket around her shoulders. She hated waking up while the sun was still down, and all was still dark. It made her feel like she had finally lost it and was making coffee in the dead of night.

The house, being old, warmed up only slowly. And she shivered while she took a careful sip of the freshly made coffee. Even Rufus, usually such an early riser, considered it to be too cold outside to drag his leash around the house like he normally did. She chuckled as the dog dragged his old bones toward the heater instead, and sprawled out in front of it, finally warm.

Now slightly more awake, Cathy decided it was time to wake the injured agent, and entered his bedroom with a cup of coffee. Mahone had completely hid himself under the stack of blankets, and only a tuff of unruly hair from the top of head, stuck out from under the covers. She chuckled at the sight, and placed the steaming mug on his nightstand. Reaching out to gently shake the hidden pile that was agent Mahone, she hoped she didn't touch his left shoulder, or anything else that might cause him pain. She couldn't help but laugh softly when she heard him groan irritably at being stirred from his sleep again, sounding much like Rufus.

"Atleast there's coffee, sir." She chuckled, watching him untangle himself out of the maze of blankets and covers. His hair now resembled the kind of parrot her aunt used to have, the one with feathers like a Mohawk on top of its head. Despite his hilarious hairdo, the agent looked a lot better than a few hours ago. His eyes had gotten some of its vibrant blue colour back. She smiled warmly at him as she handed him his coffee, which he wordlessly accepted.

"I gotta tell you.." He started, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Feels like you literally just left."

"I know, sir." She understood he was still very tired. "You've been sleeping for three hours though. You do look a lot better."

He nodded absentmindedly, and took a few careful sips from the still hot coffee, his hands wrapped around the cup, eager to get more warmth. "That's good. Now it won't show I feel like I've been sitting at a bar all night, throwing back shots." He grumbled.

"We'll make it a slow day, sir." She suggested sympathetically, like they had a choice about what kind of day it would be. Like his days were ever slow. But her words comforted him nonetheless, and he gave her a faint, but grateful smile. "I'll watch out for you." She continued.

"Make sure I don't forget to take these little bastards." Mahone chuckled dryly, picking up the strip of medication from his nightstand. "As ironic as it may sound to you, I can assure you, I will forget to take these."

"I'll help you remember." She assured him gently, and got up from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you need help with anything, sir?"

He thought about it for a moment, but shook his head. "I think I can manage.." She nodded shyly, and left his room. Leaving this bed was going to be quite the challenge, one he didn't dare to underestimate. Once he heard the shower running, he downed the last contents of his cup, and got out of bed. His body felt sore, like he slept on a couch instead of a warm bed. Every movement caused him pain, and left him out of breath. But slowly, he managed to get dressed. There was no mirror in his bedroom, so he could only hope combing his hair didn't make everything look worse, but on the other hand, he didn't really care what he looked like.

When he entered the kitchen, he was greeted by the kind, old dog and petted the animal on its head for a moment. Cameron always wanted a dog. Ever since the little man could talk, he had asked for a pet, preferably a dog. And he knew exactly what kind he wanted too. The kind with black spots, like the ones in the Disney movie, with all the puppies. Leave it to special agent Mahone to forget the title of his son's favourite movie. Wasn't it just called a crapload of puppies? Pam would know the title, the name of every character, and she'd have every song memorized. She had wanted a dog too. One like the neighbours had, a yellow Labrador named Casey. Stupid fat spoiled piece of shit, barking up a storm on Sunday morning. But Pam couldn't hear that ball of lard bark all the way in Colorado.

Pouring himself another cup of coffee, he sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and waited for Cathy to get ready. He listened to her running through her own house, like they were in the biggest hurry, and couldn't help but chuckle every time she tripped over something and cursed to herself. When she finally appeared, her hair still dripping, and her shoes untied, he smiled amusedly.

"Oh, good. You got yourself another cup of coffee." She said hurriedly.

"You don't want to see me at the office before I had atleast three cups of coffee.." He spoke innocently, taking another sip. "That's when I start throwing trashcans around."

She chuckled, pouring herself another cup as well. "Just like that."

"Just like that." He confirmed, setting his mug down in front of him, his hands wrapped around it carefully. "Cathy, I need to ask you something." She sat down in a chair in front of him, drawing her knees up to her chin, her warm cup in her lap. "And you may not like it." He continued carefully. She blinked in slight confusion, and shrugged, smiling.

"What is it, sir?"

He was quiet for a moment, studying her with a gentle expression on his face. "You told me yesterday you were on the phone with Sullins when I called. And you called him because of something Wheeler did." His eyes turned cold, like she knew they could do. "Guess what I want to know." He dared her.

She swallowed thickly. "You want to know what agent Wheeler did."

"That's right." He said. "I want the whole story."

"I told you." She started, looking up at him almost pleadingly. "He just.. makes moves on me. Offers me rides home. It's nothing I can't handle."

"I was there when Sullins held his speech about toxic environments, Cathy! This is what the man was talking about. And I remember him promising to you, that if Wheeler couldn't handle a young woman under his charge, you'd be transferred back to Felicia's care asap!" Seeing the girl physically recoil from his raised voice, he forced himself to calm down. "Cathy, I don't want to have to worry about you while I'm doing my job."

"There's nothing to worry about, sir." The girl replied, not looking at him. He sighed, exasperated and ruffled his hair in agitation.

"Wheeler isn't going to get any wiser than he is right now." He started calmly. "And the longer you allow him to make.. moves on you, whatever the hell that means, the more he will feel empowered. You don't know someone until you give them power."

The girl said nothing, and he could see tears well up in her eyes that she desperately tried to force back. He let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair.

"Cathy, there's nothing I'd like to do more than slam his face into his keyboard."

She laughed through her tears, making him smile.

"But I'm not sure that would solve anything." He chuckled softly. "So I want you to call Sullins today, explain the situation to him, and let him do as he promised. If not for yourself, then do it for me. Grand me that peace of mind, can you do that?" After a moment of hesitation, she nodded, looking down into her coffee cup.

"Thank you." He said, looking at his watch. "We best get going so.. Finish your coffee, come on." He got up from his chair, straightening his tie as well as he possibly could with one hand. Downing the rest of her coffee, she followed him into the hallway, and almost bumped into him when he suddenly turned to face her. "One more thing." He started. "About tonight.."

"You can stay another night if you like, sir." She told him softly. He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, but then he nodded, looking much like a guilty schoolboy.

"I'll leave my stuff here then." He said matter of factly, resuming his way to the front door. With his back to her, he couldn't see her little victory dance and bright smile, and that was probably for the best.

R&R Please!


End file.
